WE  WERE   CARRYING   MISS   BURROUGHS   TO   THE   BARN. 


A  Story-teller's  Pack.    By 
Frank  R.  Stockton 


Illustrated  by  Peter  Newell,  W.  T.  Smedley 
Frank  O.  Small,  Alice  Barber  Stephens,  and 
E.  W.  Kemble  :::::::::::::::: 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
New  York  ^^^i  1897 


Copyright,  1897,  ty 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOK  BINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS 

Page 

A  Few  Words  to  Begin  with,      .      i 
The  Magic  Egg,    ......      7 

The  Staying  Power  of  Sir  Rohan,    n 
The  Widow's  Cruise,    .    .    .     .    81 

Love  Before  Breakfast,    .    .    .    ,  /// 

The  Bishop's  Ghost  and  the  Print- 
er's  Baby,  «    .    .  ' .    .    .    .  /59 

Captain  Eli's  Best  Ear,  .    .    .    .  171 
As  One  Woman  to  Another,  .    .  2/5 


340126 


vi  CONTENTS 

Page 

My  Well  and  What  Came  Out 
of  ^ 375 

Stephen  Skarridge's  Christmas,     .  311 
My  Unwilling  Neighbor,      .    .    .  343 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


We  were  carrying  Miss  Burroughs 

to  the  barn, Frontispiece 

Facing 
page 

She  made  but  a  step  into  the  room  and 

stood  holding  the  door, 40 

"I  had  nothing  to  do  hut  step  up  and 
feel  her  pulse," 50 

"  You  cut  a  powerful  queer  figure,  young 

man," 72 

John  must  have  driven  backward  and  for 
ward  for  half  an  hour ', 78 

The  Widow  Ducket  said  nothing,    ...      92 

"  Tlrings  were  get  tin'  awf idler  and  awful- 

ler  every  instant," 100 


viii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing 
page 

I  gave  myself  the  pleasure  of  personally 

conducting  them  about  the  premises,  .    1 16 

At  the  Steamship  Office, 7^2 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  to  breakfast?" 

she  asked, 756 

Captain  Cephas  had  brought  over  a  bundle 

of  things, 792 

Going  to  the  window,  I  threw  the  pigeon 

into  the  air, 23° 

While  the  inn-keeper  was  giving  me  the 
information  I  endeavored  to  suppress 
my  excitement, 240 

"  Is  that  Mr.  Thomas ?"     .    ...    244 

Together  we  went  out  of  the  woods,      .    .    264 
I  began  to  search  for  the  well,      ....    364 


A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH 


A    FEW    WORDS   TO    BEGIN 
WITH 

THE  Story-teller  puts  down  his  pack,  not 
a  very  heavy  one,  and  if  any  of  those 
who  gather  around  him  desire  to  know  any 
thing  about  the  tales  he  bears,  which  shall  be 
a  little  more  interesting  than  a  mere  recital 
of  their  names  in  order,  he  will  most  gladly 
say  a  few  words  about  them. 

Here,  now,  is  "  The  Magic  Egg,"  and  it  is 
not  everyone  who,  upon  reading  this  story 
will  believe  that  all  of  the  things  told  therein 
could  have  happened.  Of  course,  there  are 
those  who  never,  under  any  circumstances, 
believe  anything  magical,  but  then,  there 
are  other  persons  who  will  believe  in  magic, 
provided  it  shall  appear  reasonable.  Now,  if 
the  happenings  in  this  story  seem  unreason 
able  to  anyone,  let  him  or  her  wait  until  the 
middle  of  the  first  decade  of  the  twentieth 
century.  By  that  time,  no  doubt,  the  story 
will  be  easier  to  believe. 


2        A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH 

As  to  "  The  Staying  Power  of  Sir  Eohan," 
it  may  be  remarked  that  the  story  controverts 
a  very  popular  belief  among  horsemen,  to  the 
effect  that  a  roan  horse  has  never  anything 
the  matter  with  him.  Now,  there  can  be 
nothing  more  to  the  detriment  of  a  horse  than 
for  him  to  know  too  much.  What  loves  have 
been  affected,  what  fortunes  have  been 
swayed,  what  ambitions  have  been  aided  and 
thwarted  by  over-knowledge  in  horses — or 
men! 

This  being  the  age  of  womanly  endeavor, 
it  was  pleasant  to  chronicle,  in  "  The  Widow's 
Cruise,"  the  very  successful  endeavor  of  a 
good  woman,  not  only  to  rise  to  the  level  of 
the  male  maritime  yarn,  but  to  soar  above  it, 
and  to  look  with  pardonable  contempt  upon 
certain  persons  of  the  contrary  sex,  who  had 
under-estimated  her  mental  grasp. 

For  "Love  Before  Breakfast,"  the  Story 
teller  has  a  certain  affectionate  feeling,  be 
cause  the  scene  of  the  story  and  all  its  sur 
roundings  are  those  of  his  own  home.  The 
characters  mentioned  never  came  upon  that 
scene,  nor  did  any  of  the  incidents  happen 
there ;  but  it  is  always  most  interesting, 
both  to  writer  and  reader,  when  unreal  per- 


A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH 

sonages  can   be   made  to   inhabit   perfectly 
real  places. 

"  The  Bishop's  Ghost  and  the  Printer's 
Baby  "  was  suggested  by  the  tomb  of  Chaucer, 
in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  Story-teller  was 
standing  by  that  ancient  sepulchre,  when  he 
perceived  that  some  of  the  mortar  under  the 
stone  lid  had  crumbled,  and  had  fallen  out, 
and  naturally  came  the  thought  that  out  of 
such  a  little  crack  might  gently  slip  the  ghost 
of  the  poet,  like  a  faint  mist  from  "  that  pure 
well  of  English  undefiled,"  floating  quietly, 
here  and  there,  among  the  old  effigies  and  in 
scriptions,  and  touching  now  and  then  some 
noble  visage,  or  some  honored  name  with 
moist  regard. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  enchanting  scent 
of  balmy  salt  water  which  hangs  in  the  sum 
mer  air  along  the  southern  coast  of  Cape  Cod, 
"  Captain  Eli  "  would  not  have  been  the  man 
he  was,  and  of  course,  in  that  case,  one  of  his 
ears  would  not  have  been  better  than  the 
other.  The  world  is  full  of  good-hearted  and 
noble  sailors,  but  it  is  in  the  atmosphere  of 
Nantucket  Island  and  Buzzard's  Bay  that  the 
"  Old  Captain  "  gently  ripens  into  his  most 
perfect  fruition.  If  "  Captain  Eli "  and  "  Cap- 


4        A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH 

tain  Cephas  "  are  not  quite  ripe,  there  is  hope 
for  them.  They  are  living  yet. 

It  was  on  a  beautiful  day  in  summer  that 
the  Story-teller  lay  in  a  hammock  and  looked 
up  between  the  branches  of  a  wide-spreading 
tree,  into  the  clear  blue  sky,  and  while  gazing 
into  that  mystical  region  of  incomprehensible 
space,  he  began  to  wonder  what  he  would 
think  if  suddenly  he  saw,  in  the  midst  of  all 
that  delicate  blue,  a  little  black  speck.  What 
could  such  a  speck  be  ?  Where  could  it  come 
from  ?  Presently  that  speck  did  appear.  It 
was  the  idea  of  the  story,  "  As  One  Woman 
to  Another." 

It  may  be  that  to  many  persons  who  own  a 
country  home,  the  story  of  "  My  Well,  and 
What  Came  Out  of  It "  may  possess  a  pe 
culiar  interest — perhaps  a  pleasant  interest, 
perhaps  otherwise  ;  and  if  such  persons 
should  at  any  time  put  themselves  into  the 
hands  of  a  man  with  a  divining  twig,  they  will 
have  good  reason  to  expect  to  get  a  great  deal 
more  than  water.  The  opinions,  the  advice, 
the  remonstrances,  the  encouragements,  the 
pessimism,  and  the  optimism  which  will  well 
up  from  the  souls  of  their  contiguous  fellow- 
beings  will  surprise  them  more,  it  may  be 


A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH        5 

than  if  a  stream  of  the  purest  Apollinaris 
had  spouted  high  into  the  air. 

"  Stephen  Skarridge's  Christmas  "  was  writ 
ten  long  ago,  and  was  intended  for  the  holi 
day  number  of  Punchinello,  that  comic  jour 
nal  which  flourished  in  New  York  before 
Puck  dropped  one  end  of  his  girdle  upon 
Manhattan  Island,  or  Life  began.  But  the 
merry  journal  died  before  the  story  was 
printed,  and  "Mr.  Skarridge "  appeared  in 
the  old  Seribners  Monthly.  Those  were  the 
days  of  the  old-fashioned  Christmas  story, 
and,  under  the  inspiration  of  those  delight 
ful  "  Carols  "  and  "  Chimes  ''  which  revived 
among  us  the  love  of  the  Yule-tide,  there 
sprang  up  in  this  country,  as  well  as  in  Eng 
land,  a  flourishing  crop  of  Christmas  stories, 
all  fashioned  and  shaped,  as  nearly  as  their 
authors  could  make  them,  like  unto  their 
shining  prototypes.  As  so  many  people  were 
writing  Christmas  stories,  this  Story-teller 
thought  that  he  would  try  his  hand. 

Many  a  marriage  in  story  and  in  real  life 
has  depended  upon  the  joining  of  estates ; 
but  in  the  old-fashioned  stories  it  was  almost 
always  the  case  that  if  the  estates  did  not 
adjoin  at  the  beginning  of  the  story,  they  did 


G        A  FEW  WORDS  TO  BEGIN  WITH 

not  do  so  at  the  end.  It  was  otherwise  with 
"  My  Unwilling  Neighbor."  When  Fate  en 
ters  into  the  service  of  love,  it  may  not  be 
able,  like  Faith,  to  move  mountains,  but  it 
can  do  good  work. 

The  Story-teller  has  nothing  more  to  tell 
about  the  contents  of  his  Pack  ;  it  is  now  the 
turn  of  the  buyer  to  have  his  say. 


THE  MAGIC  EGG 


THE  MAGIC  EGG 


THE  pretty  little  theatre  attached  to  the 
building  of  the  Unicorn  Club  had  been 
hired  for  a  certain  January  afternoon  by  Mr. 
Herbert  Loring,  who  wished  to  give  therein 
a  somewhat  novel  performance  to  which  he 
had  invited  a  small  audience  consisting  en 
tirely  of  friends  and  acquaintances. 

Loring  was  a  handsome  fellow  about  thirty 
years  old,  who  had  travelled  far  and  studied 
much.  He  had  recently  made  a  long  sojourn 
in  the  far  East,  and  his  friends  had  been  in 
vited  to  the  theatre  to  see  some  of  the  won 
derful  things  he  had  brought  from  that  coun 
try  of  wonders.  As  Loring  was  a  clubman, 
and  belonged  to  a  family  of  good  social  stand 
ing,  his  circle  of  acquaintances  was  large,  and 
in  this  circle  a  good  many  unpleasant  remarks 
had  been  made  regarding  the  proposed  enter 
tainment — made,  of  course,  by  the  people  who 
had  not  been  invited  to  be  present.  Some  of 


10  THE  NAGIG  EGG 

the  gossip  on  the  subject  had  reached  Loring, 
who  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  could  not 
talk  to  a  crowd,  and  that  he  did  not  care  to 
show  the  curious  things  he  had  collected  to 
people  who  would  not  thoroughly  appreciate 
them.  He  had  been  very  particular  in  re 
gard  to  his  invitations. 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  appointed  afternoon 
nearly  all  the  people  who  had  been  invited  to 
the  Unicorn  theatre  were  in  their  seats.  No 
one  had  stayed  away  except  for  some  very 
good  reason,  for  it  was  well  known  that  if 
Herbert  Loring  offered  to  show  anything  it 
was  worth  seeing. 

About  forty  people  were  present,  who  sat 
talking  to  one  another,  or  admiring  the  decor 
ation  of  the  theatre.  As  Loring  stood  upon 
the  stage — where  he  was  entirely  alone,  his 
exhibition  requiring  ;ao  assistants — he  gazed 
through  a  loophole  in  the  curtain  upon 
a  very  interesting  array  of  faces.  There 
were  the  faces  of  many  men  and  women 
of  society,  of  students,  of  workers  in  var 
ious  fields  of  thought,  and  even  of  idlers 
in  all  fields  of  thought,  but  there  was  not 
one  which  indicated  a  frivolous  or  listless 
disposition.  The  owners  of  those  faces  had 


THE  MAGIG  EGG  11 

come  to  see  something,  and  they  wished  to 
see  it. 

For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  time  an 
nounced  for  the  opening  of  the  exhibition 
Loring  peered  through  the  hole  in  the  cur 
tain,  and  then,  although  all  the  people  he 
had  expected  had  not  arrived,  he  felt  it  would 
not  do  for  him  to  wait  any  longer.  The  au 
dience  was  composed  of  well-bred  and  courte 
ous  men  and  women,  but  despite  their  polite 
self-restraint  Loring  could  see  that  some  of 
them  were  getting  tired  of  waiting.  So,  very 
reluctantly,  and  feeling  that  further  delay  was 
impossible,  he  raised  the  curtain  and  came 
forward  on  the  stage. 

Briefly  he  announced  that  the  exhibition 
would  open  with  some  fireworks  he  had 
brought  from  Corea.  It  was  plain  to  see 
that  the  statement  that  fireworks  were  about 
to  be  set  off  on  a  theatre  stage,  by  an  am 
ateur,  had  rather  startled  some  of  the  audi 
ence,  and  Loring  hastened  to  explain  that 
these  were  not  real  fireworks,  but  that  they 
were  contrivances  made  of  colored  glass, 
which  were  illuminated  by  the  powerful  lens 
of  a  lantern  which  was  placed  out  of  sight,  and 
while  the  apparent  pyrotechnic  display  would 


12  THE  MAGIG  EGG 

resemble  fireworks  of  strange  and  grotesque 
designs,  it  would  be  absolutely  without  dan 
ger.  He  brought  out  some  little  bunches  of 
bits  of  colored  glass,  hung  them  at  some  dis 
tance  apart  on  a  wire  which  was  stretched 
across  the  stage  just  high  enough  for  him  to 
reach  it,  and  then  lighted  his  lantern,  which 
he  placed  in  one  of  the  wings,  lowered  all 
the  lights  in  the  theatre,  and  began  his  exhi 
bition. 

As  Loring  turned  his  lantern  on  one  of  the 
clusters  of  glass  lenses;  strips,  and  points, 
and,  unseen  himself,  caused  them  to  move  by 
means  of  long  cords  attached,  the  effects  were 
beautiful  and  marvellous.  Little  wheels  of 
colored  fire  rapidly  revolved,  miniature  rock 
ets  appeared  to  rise  a  few  feet  and  to  explode 
in  the  air,  and  while  all  the  ordinary  forms 
of  fireworks  were  produced  on  a  diminutive 
scale,  there  were  some  effects  that  were  en 
tirely  novel  to  the  audience.  As  the  light 
was  turned  successively  upon  one  and  another 
of  the  clusters  of  glass,  sometimes  it  would 
flash  along  the  whole  line  so  rapidly  that  all 
the  various  combinations  of  color  and  motion 
seemed  to  be  combined  in  one,  and  then  for 
a  time  each  particular  set  of  fireworks  wonld 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  13 

blaze,  sparkle,  and  coruscate  by  itself,  scatter 
ing  particles  of  colored  light,  as  if  they  had 
been  real  sparks  of  fire. 

This  curious  and  beautiful  exhibition  of 
miniature  pyrotechnics  was  extremely  inter 
esting  to  the  audience,  who  gazed  upward 
with  rapt  and  eager  attention  at  the  line  of 
wheels,  stars,  and  revolving  spheres.  So  far 
as  interest  gave  evidence  of  satisfaction,  there 
was  never  a  better  satisfied  audience.  At 
first  there  had  been  some  hushed  murmurs  of 
pleasure,  but  very  soon  the  attention  of  every 
one  seemed  so  completely  engrossed  by  the 
dazzling  display  that  they  simply  gazed  in 
silence. 

For  twenty  minutes  or  longer  the  glitter 
ing  show  went  on,  and  not  a  sign  of  weariness 
or  inattention  was  made  by  any  one  of  the 
assembled  company.  Then  gradually  the 
colors  of  the  little  fireworks  faded,  the  stars 
and  wheels  revolved  more  slowly,  the  lights 
in  the  body  of  the  theatre  were  gradually 
raised,  and  the  stage  curtain  went  softly 
down. 

Anxiously,  and  a  little  pale,  Herbert  Lor- 
ing  peered  through  the  loophole  in  the  cur 
tain.  It  was  not  easy  to  judge  of  the  effects 


14  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

of  his  exhibition,  and  he  did  not  know  whether 
or  not  it  had  been  a  success.  There  was  no 
applause,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  no 
signs  that  any  one  resented  the  exhibition  as 
a  childish  display  of  colored  lights.  It  was 
impossible  to  look  upon  that  audience  with 
out  believing  that  they  had  been  thoroughly 
interested  in  what  they  had  seen,  and  that 
they  expected  to  see  more. 

For  two  or  three  minutes  Loring  gazed 
through  his  loophole  and  then,  still  with 
some  doubt  in  his  heart,  but  with  a  little  more 
color  in  his  cheeks,  he  prepared  for  the  sec 
ond  part  of  his  performance. 

At  this  moment  there  entered  the  theatre, 
at  the  very  back  of  the  house,  a  young  lady. 
She  was  handsome  and  well- dressed,  and  as 
she  opened  the  door — Loring  had  employed 
110  ushers  or  other  assistants  in  this  little 
social  performance — she  paused  for  a  mo 
ment  and  looked  into  the  theatre,  and  then 
noiselessly  stepped  to  a  chair  in  the  back  row, 
and  sat  down. 

This  was*  Edith  Starr,  who,  a  month  be 
fore,  had  been  betrothed  to  Herbert  Loring. 
Edith  and  her  mother  had  been  invited  to 
this  performance,  and  front  seats  had  been 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  15 

reserved  for  them,  for  each  guest  had  received 
a  numbered  card  ;  but  Mrs.  Starr  had  a  head 
ache,  and  could  not  go  out  that  afternoon, 
and  for  a  time  her  daughter  had  thought 
that  she  too  must  give  up  the  pleasure  Lor- 
ing  had  promised  her,  and  stay  with  her 
mother.  But  when  the  elder  lady  dropped 
into  a  quiet  sleep,  Edith  thought  that,  late 
as  it  was,  she  would  go  by  herself,  and  see 
what  she  could  of  the  performance. 

She  was  quite  certain  that  if  her  presence 
were  known  to  Loring  he  would  stop  what 
ever  he  was  doing  until  she  had  been  pro 
vided  with  a  seat  which  he  thought  suitable 
for  her,  for  he  had  made  a  point  of  her  being 
properly  seated  when  he  gave  the  invitations. 
Therefore,  being  equally  desirous  of  not  dis 
turbing  the  performance  and  of  not  being  her 
self  conspicuous,  she  sat  behind  two  rather 
large  men,  where  she  could  see  the  stage  per 
fectly  well,  but  where  she  herself  would  not 
be  likely  to  be  seen. 

In  a  few  moments  the  curtain  rose,  and  Lor 
ing  came  forward,  carrying  a  small,  light  table, 
which  he  placed  near  the  front  of  the  stage, 
and  for  a  moment  stood  quietly  by  it.  Edith 
noticed  upon  his  face  the  expression  of  un- 


16  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

certainty  and  anxiety  which  had  not  yet  left 
it.  Standing  by  the  side  of  the  table,  and 
speaking  very  slowly,  but  so  clearly  that  his 
words  could  be  heard  distinctly  in  all  parts 
of  the  room,  he  began  some  introductory  re 
marks  regarding  the  second  part  of  his  per 
formance. 

"  The  extraordinary,  and  I  may  say  mar 
vellous,  thing  which  I  am  about  to  show  you," 
he  said,  "  is  known  among  East  Indian  ma 
gicians  as  the  magic  egg.  The  exhibition  is 
a  very  uncommon  one,  and  has  seldom  been 
seen  by  Americans  or  Europeans,  and  it  was 
by  a  piece  of  rare  good  fortune  that  I  became 
possessed  of  the  appliances  necessary  for  this 
exhibition.  They  are  indeed  very  few  and 
simple,  but  never  before,  to  the  best  of  my 
knowledge  and  belief,  have  they  been  seen 
outside  of  India. 

"  I  will  now  get  the  little  box  which  con 
tains  the  articles  necessary  for  this  magical 
performance,  and  I  will  say  that  if  I  had  time 
to  tell  you  of  the  strange  and  amazing  advent 
ure  which  resulted  in  my  possession  of  this 
box,  I  am  sure  you  would  be  as  much  inter 
ested  in  that  as  I  expect  you  to  be  in  the 
contents  of  the  box.  But,  in  order  that  none 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  17 

of  you  may  think  this  is  an  ordinary  trick, 
executed  by  means  of  concealed  traps  or 
doors,  I  wish  you  to  take  particular  notice 
of  this  table,  which  is,  as  you  see,  a  plain, 
unpainted  pine  table  with  nothing  but  a  flat 
top,  and  four  straight  legs  at  the  corners. 
You  can  see  under  and  around  it,  and  it  gives 
no  opportunity  to  conceal  anything."  Then 
standing  for  a  few  moments  as  if  he  had 
something  else  to  say,  he  turned  and  stepped 
toward  one  of  the  wings. 

Edith  was  troubled  as  she  looked  at  her 
lover  during  these  remarks.  Her  interest 
was  great ;  greater,  indeed,  than  that  of  the 
people  about  her  ;  but  it  was  not  a  pleasant 
interest.  As  Loring  stopped  speaking,  and 
looked  about  him,  there  was  a  momentary 
flush  on  his  face.  She  knew  this  was  caused 
by  excitement,  and  she  was  pale  from  the 
same  cause. 

Very  soon  Loring  came  forward,  and  stood 
by  the  table. 

"  Here  is  the  box,"  he  said,  "  of  which  T 
spoke,  and  as  I  hold  it  up  I  think  you  can  all 
see  it.  It  is  not  large,  being  certainly  not 
more  than  twelve  inches  in  length  and  two 
deep,  but  it  contains  some  very  wonderful 


18  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

things.  The  outside  of  this  box  is  covered 
with  delicate  engraving  and  carving  which 
you  cannot  see,  and  these  marks  and  lines 
have,  I  think,  some  magical  meaning,  but  I 
do  not  know  what  it  is.  I  will  now  open  the 
box,  and  show  you  what  is  inside.  The  first 
thing  I  take  out  is  this  little  stick,  not  thicker 
than  a  lead-pencil,  but  somewhat  longer,  as 
you  see.  This  is  a  magical  wand,  and  is 
covered  with  inscriptions  of  the  same  char 
acter  as  those  on  the  outside  of  the  box. 
The  next  thing  is  this  little  red  bag,  well- 
filled,  as  you  see,  which  I  shall  put  on  the 
table,  for  I  shall  not  yet  need  it. 

"Now  I  take  out  a  piece  of  cloth  which  is 
folded  into  a  very  small  compass,  but  as  I 
unfold  it  you  will  perceive  that  it  is  more 
than  a  foot  square,  and  is  covered  with  em 
broidery.  All  those  strange  lines  and  figures 
in  gold  and  red,  which  you  can  plainly  see  on 
the  cloth  as  I  hold  it  up,  are  also  characters 
in  the  same  magic  language  as  those  on  the 
box  and  wand.  I  will  now  spread  the  cloth 
on  the  table,  and  then  take  out  the  only  re 
maining  thing  in  the  box,  and  this  is  nothing 
in  the  world  but  an  egg — a  simple,  ordinary 
hen's  egg,  as  you  all  see  as  I  hold  it  up.  It 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  19 

may  be  a  trifle  larger  than  au  ordinary  egg, 
but  then,  after  all,  it  is  nothing  but  a  common 
egg — that  is,  in  appearance  ;  in  reality  it  is  a 
good  deal  more. 

"  Now  I  will  begin  the  performance,"  and 
as  he  stood  by  the  back  of  the  table  over 
which  he  had  been  slightly  bending,  and 
threw  his  eyes  over  the  audience,  his  voice 
was  stronger,  and  his  face  had  lost  all  its  pal 
lor.  He  was  evidently  warming  up  with  his 
subject. 

"  I  now  take  up  this  wand,"  he  said,  "  which, 
while  I  hold  it,  gives  me  power  to  produce 
the  phenomena  which  you  are  about  to  be 
hold.  You  may  not  all  believe  that  there  is 
any  magic  whatever  about  this  little  perform 
ance,  and  that  it  is  all  a  bit  of  machinery  ; 
but  whatever  you  may  think  about  it,  you 
shall  see  what  you  shall  see. 

"  Now  with  this  wand  I  gently  touch  this 
egg  which  is  lying  on  the  square  of  cloth.  I 
do  not  believe  you  can  see  what  has  hap 
pened  to  this  egg,  but  I  will  tell  you.  There 
is  a  little  line,  like  a  hair,  entirely  around  it. 
Now  that  line  has  become  a  crack.  Now  you 
can  see  it,  I  know.  It  grows  wider  and  wider ! 
Look !  The  shell  of  the  egg  is  separating  in 


20  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

the  middle.  The  whole  egg  slightly  moves. 
Do  you  notice  that  ?  Now  you  can  see  some 
thing  yellow  showing  itself  between  the  two 
parts  of  the  shell.  See  !  It  is  moving  a  good 
deal,  and  the  two  halves  of  the  shell  are  sep 
arating  more  and  more !  And  now  out  tum 
bles  this  queer  little  object.  Do  you  see 
what  it  is  ?  It  is  a  poor,  weak,  little  chick, 
not  able  to  stand,  but  alive — alive !  You  can 
all  perceive  that  it  is  alive.  Now  you  can 
see  that  it  is  standing  on  its  feet,  feebly 
enough,  but  still  standing. 

"  Behold,  it  takes  a  few  steps !  You  cannot 
doubt  that  it  is  alive,  and  came  out  of  that 
egg.  It  is  beginning  to  walk  about  over  the 
cloth.  Do  you  notice  that  it  is  picking  the 
embroidery?  Now,  little  chick,  I  will  give 
you  something  to  eat.  This  little  red  bag 
contains  grain,  a  magical  grain,  with  which  I 
shall  feed  the  chicken.  You  must  excuse  my 
awkwardness  in  opening  the  bag,  as  I  still 
hold  the  wand ;,  but  this  little  stick  I  must 
not  drop.  See,  little  chick,  there  are  some 
grains.  They  look  like  rice,  but,  in  fact,  I 
have  no  idea  what  they  are.  But  he  knows, 
he  knows  !  Look  at  him !  See  how  he  picks 
it  up  !  There  !  He  has  swallowed  one,  two, 


TUE  MAGIC  BOG  21 

three.  That  will  do,  little  chick,  for  a  first 
meal. 

"The  grain  seems  to  have  strengthened 
him  already,  for  see  how  lively  he  is,  and  how 
his  yellow  down  stands  out  on  him,  so  puffy 
and  warm !  You  are  looking  for  some  more 
grain,  are  you?  Well,  you  cannot  have  it 
just  yet,  and  keep  away  from  those  pieces  of 
egg-shell,  which,  by  the  way,  I  will  put  back 
into  the  box.  Now,  sir,  try  to  avoid  the 
edge  of  the  table,  and,  to  quiet  you,  I  will  give 
you  a  little  tap  on  the  back  with  my  wand. 
Now,  then,  please  observe  closely.  The  down 
which  just  now  covered  him  has  almost  gone. 
He  is  really  a  good  deal  bigger,  and  ever  so 
much  uglier.  See  the  little  pin -feathers 
sticking  out  over  him !  Some  spots,  here  and 
there  are  almost  bare,  but  he  is  ever  so  much 
more  active.  Ha !  Listen  to  that !  He  is  so 
strong  that  you  can  hear  his  beak  as  he  pecks 
at  the  table.  He  is  actually  growing  bigger 
and  bigger  before  our  very  eyes !  See  that 
funny  little  tail,  how  it  begins  to  stick  up, 
and  quills  are  showing  at  the  end  of  his  wings. 

"Another  tap,  and  a  few  more  grains. 
Careful,  sir !  Don't  tear  the  cloth !  See  how 
rapidly  he  grows !  He  is  fairly  covered  with 


22  THE  MAGIC  EGO 

feathers,  red  and  black,  with  a  tip  of  yellow 
in  front.  You  could  hardly  get  that  fellow 
into  an  ostrich  egg !  Now,  then,  what  do  you 
think  of  him  ?  He  is  big  enough  for  a  broiler, 
though  I  don't  think  anyone  would  want  to 
take  him  for  that  purpose.  Some  more  grain, 
and  another  tap  from  my  wand.  See!  He 
does  not  mind  the  little  stick,  for  he  has 
been  used  to  it  from  his  very  birth.  Now, 
then,  he  is  what  you  would  call  a  good  half- 
grown  chick.  Bather  more  than  half  grown, 
I  should  say.  Do  you  notice  his  tail  ?  There 
is  no  mistaking  him  for  a  pullet.  The  long 
feathers  are  beginning  to  curl  over,  already. 
He  must  have  a  little  more  grain.  Look  out, 
sir  or  you  will  be  off  the  table !  Come  back 
here  !  This  table  is  too  small  for  him,  but  if 
he  were  on  the  floor  you  could  not  see  him  so 
well. 

"Another  tap.  Now  see  that  comb  on  the 
top  of  his  head ;  you  scarcely  noticed  it  be 
fore,  and  now  it  is  bright  red.  And  see  his 
spurs  beginning  to  show — on  good  thick  legs, 
too.  There  is  a  fine  young  fellow  for  you ! 
Look  how  he  jerks  his  head  from  side  to 
side,  like  the  }roung  prince  of  a  poultry-yard, 
as  he  well  deserves  to  be ! " 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  23 

The  attentive  interest  which  had  at  first 
characterized  the  audience  now  changed  to 
excited  admiration  and  amazement.  Some 
leaned  forward  with  mouths  wide  open. 
Others  stood  up  so  that  they  could  see  bet 
ter.  Ejaculations  of  astonishment  and  won 
der  were  heard  on  every  side,  and  a  more 
thoroughly  fascinated  and  absorbed  audience 
was  never  seen. 

"  Now,  my  friends,"  Loring  continued,  "  I 
will  give  this  handsome  fowl  another  tap. 
Behold  the  result — a  noble,  full-grown  cock ! 
Behold  his  spurs;  they  are  nearly  an  inch 
long!  See,  there  is  a  comb  for  you;  and 
what  a  magnificent  tail  of  green  and  black, 
contrasting  so  finely  with  the  deep  red  of  the 
rest  of  his  body  !  Well,  sir,  you  are  truly 
too  big  for  this  table.  As  I  cannot  give  you 
more  room,  I  will  set  you  up  higher.  Move 
over  a  little,  and  I  will  set  this  chair  on  the 
table.  There!  Up  on  the  seat!  That's 
right,  but  don't  stop;  there  is  the  back, 
which  is  higher  yet !  Up  with  you !  Ha ! 
There,  he  nearly  upset  the  chair,  but  I  will 
hold  it.  See  !  He  has  turned  around.  Now, 
then,  look  at  him.  See  his  wings  as  he  flaps 
them !  He  could  fly  with  such  wings.  Look 


24  THE  MAGIO  EGG 

at  him !  See  that  swelling  breast !  Ha, 
Ha !  Listen !  Did  you  ever  hear  a  crow  like 
that?  It  fairly  rings  through  the  house. 
Yes  ;  I  knew  it !  There  is  another  !  " 

At  this  point,  the  people  in  the  house  were 
in  a  state  of  wild  excitement.  Nearly  all  of 
them  were  on  their  feet,  and  they  were  in 
such  a  condition  of  frantic  enthusiasm  that 
Loring  was  afraid  some  of  them  might  make 
a  run  for  the  stage. 

"  Come,  sir,"  cried  Loring,  now  almost 
shouting,  "  that  will  do ;  you  have  shown  us 
the  strength  of  your  lungs.  Jump  down  on 
the  seat  of  the  chair,  now  on  the  table. 
There,  I  will  take  away  the  chair,  and  you 
can  stand  for  a  moment  on  the  table,  and  let 
our  friends  look  at  you,  but  only  for  a  moment. 
Take  that  tap  on  your  back.  Now  do  you 
see  any  difference?  Perhaps  you  may  not, 
but  I  do.  Yes  ;  I  believe  you  all  do.  He  is 
not  the  big  fellow  he  was  a  minute  ago.  He 
is  really  smaller;  only  a  fine  cockerel.  A 
nice  tail  that,  but  with  none  of  the  noble 
sweep  that  it  had  a  minute  ago.  No ;  don't 
try  to  get  off  the  table.  You  can't  escape  my 
wand.  Another  tap.  Behold  a  half -grown 
chicken,  good  to  eat,  but  with  not  a  crow  in 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  25 

him.  Hungry,  are  you?  But  you  need  not 
pick  at  the  table  that  way.  You  get  no  more 
grain,  but  only  this  little  tap.  Ha !  Ha  ! 
What  are  you  coming  to  ?  There  is  a  chicken 
barely  feathered  enough  for  us  to  tell  wLat 
color  he  is  going  to  be. 

"Another  tap  will  take  still  more  of  the 
conceit  out  of  him.  Look  at  him !  There 
are  his  pin  -  feathers,  and  his  bare  spots. 
Don't  try  to  get  away ;  I  can  easily  tap  you 
again.  Now,  then.  Here  is  a  lovely  little 
chick,  fluffy  with  yellow  down.  He  is  active 
enough,  but  I  shall  quiet  him.  One  tap,  and 
now  what  do  you  see  ?  A  poor  feeble  chicken, 
scarcely  able  to  stand,  with  his  down  all 
packed  close  to  him  as  if  he  had  been  out  in 
the  rain.  Ah,  little  chick,  I  will  take  the 
two  halves  of  the  egg-shell  from  which  you 
came,  and  put  them  on  each  side  of  you. 
Come  now,  get  in !  I  close  them  up ;  you 
are  lost  to  view.  There  is  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  a  crack  around  the  shell !  Now  it 
has  gone !  There,  my  friends,  as  I  hold  it  on 
high,  behold  the  magic  egg,  exactly  as  it  was 
when  I  first  took  it  out  of  the  box,  into 
which  I  will  place  it  again,  with  the  cloth  and 
the  wand  and  the  little  red  bag,  and  shut  it 


26  TEE  MAGIC  EGG 

up  with  a  snap.  I  will  let  you  take  one  more 
look  at  this  box  before  I  put  it  away  behind 
the  scenes.  Are  you  satisfied  with  what  I 
have  shown  you  ?  Do  you  think  it  is  really 
as  wonderful  as  you  supposed  it  would  be  ?  " 

At  these  words  the  whole  audience  burst 
into  riotous  applause,  during  which  Loring 
disappeared ;  but  he  was  back  in  a  moment. 

"  Thank  you ! "  he  cried,  bowing  low,  and 
waving  his  arms  before  him  in  the  manner 
of  an  Eastern  magician  making  a  salaam. 
From  side  to  side  he  turned,  bowing  and 
thanking,  and  then  with  a  hearty,  "Good-by 
to  you,  good- by  to  you  all !  "  he  stepped  back, 
and  let  down  the  curtain. 

For  some  moments  the  audience  remained 
in  their  seats  as  if  they  were  expecting  some 
thing  more,  and  then  they  rose  quietly  and 
began  to  disperse.  Most  of  them  were  ac 
quainted  with  one  another,  and  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  greeting  and  talking  as  they 
went  out  of  the  theatre. 

When  Loring  was  sure  the  last  person  had 
departed,  he  turned  down  the  lights,  locked 
the  door,  and  gave  the  key  to  the  steward  of 
the  club. 

He  walked  to  his  home  a  happy  man.    His 


THE  MAGIG  EGG  27 

exhibition  had  been  a  perfect  success,  with 
not  a  break  or  a  flaw  in  it  from  beginning 
to  end. 

"I  feel,"  thought  the  young  man,  as  he 
strode  along,  "  as  if  I  could  fly  to  the  top  of 
that  steeple,  and  flap  and  crow  until  all  the 
world  heard  me." 

That  evening,  as  was  his  daily  custom, 
Herbert  Loring  called  upon  Miss  Starr.  He 
found  the  young  lady  in  the  library. 

"I  came  in  here,"  she  said,  "because  I 
have  a  good  deal  to  talk  to  you  about,  and  I 
do  not  want  interruptions." 

With  this  arrangement  the  young  man  ex 
pressed  his  entire  satisfaction,  and  imme 
diately  began  to  inquire  the  cause  of  her  ab 
sence  from  his  exhibition  in  the  afternoon. 

"  But  I  was  there,"  said  Edith.  "  You  did 
not  see  me,  but  I  was  there.  Mother  had  a 
headache,  and  I  went  by  myself." 

"  You  were  there  !  "  exclaimed  Loring,  al 
most  starting  from  his  chair.  "  I  don't  un 
derstand.  You  were  not  in  your  seat." 

"  No,"  answered  Edith  ;  "  I  was  on  the  very 
back  row  of  seats.  You  could  not  see  me, 
and  I  did  not  wish  you  to  see  me." 

"Edith!"  exclaimed  Loring,  rising  to  his 


28  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

feet,  and  leaning  over  the  library  table,  which 
was  between  them.  "  When  did  you  come  ? 
How  much  of  the  performance  did  you  see  ?  " 

"I  was  late,"  she  said;  "I  did  not  arrive 
until  after  the  fireworks,  or  whatever  they 
were." 

For  a  moment  Loring  was  silent,  as  if  he 
did  not  understand  the  situation. 

"Fireworks!"  he  said.  "How  did  you 
know  there  had  been  fireworks  ?  " 

"  I  heard  the  people  talking  of  them  as 
they  left  the  theatre,"  she  answered. 

"  And  what  did  they  say  ? "  he  inquired, 
quickly. 

"  They  seemed  to  like  them  very  well,"  she 
replied,  "but  I  do  not  think  they  were  quite 
satisfied.  From  what  I  heard  some  persons 
say,  I  inferred  that  they  thought  it  was  not 
very  much  of  a  show  to  which  you  had  in 
vited  them." 

Again  Loring  stood  in  thought,  looking 
down  at  the  table ;  but  before  he  could  speak 
again,  Edith  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Herbert  Loring,"  she  cried,  "  what  does 
all  this  mean  ?  I  was  there  during  the  whole 
of  the  exhibition  of  what  you  called  the 
magic  egg.  I  saw  all  those  people  wild  with 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  29 

excitement  at  the  wonderful  sight  of  the 
chicken  that  came  out  of  the  egg,  and  grew 
to  full  size,  and  then  dwindled  down  again, 
and  went  back  into  the  egg,  and,  Herbert, 
there  was  no  egg,  and  there  was  no  little  box, 
and  there  was  no  wand,  and  no  embroidered 
cloth,  and  there  was  no  red  bag,  nor  any  lit 
tle  chick,  and  there  was  no  full-grown  fowl, 
and  there  was  no  chair  that  you  put  on  the 
table!  There  was  nothing,  absolutely  noth 
ing,  but  you  and  that  table !  And  even  the 
table  was  not  what  you  said  it  was.  It  was 
not  an  unpainted  pine  table  with  four  straight 
legs.  It  was  a  table  of  dark  polished  wood, 
and  it  stood  on  a  single  post  with  feet. 
There  was  nothing  there  that  you  said  was 
there  ;  everything  was  a  sham  and  a  delusion ; 
every  word  you  spoke  was  untrue.  And  yet 
everybody  in  that  theatre,  excepting  you  and 
me,  saw  all  the  things  that  you  said  were  on 
the  stage.  I  know  they  saw  them  all,  for  I 
was  with  the  people,  and  heard  them,  and 
saw  them,  and  at  times  I  fairly  felt  the  thrill 
of  enthusiasm  which  possessed  them  as  they 
glared  at  the  miracles  and  wonders  you  said 
were  happening." 

Loring  smiled.    "  Sit  down,  my  dear  Edith," 


30  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

he  said.  "You  are  excited,  and  there  is  not 
the  slightest  cause  for  it.  I  will  explain  the 
whole  affair  to  you.  It  is  simple  enough. 
You  know  that  study  is  the  great  object  of 
my  life.  I  study  all  sorts  of  things,  and  just 
now  I  am  greatly  interested  in  hypnotism. 
The  subject  has  become  fascinating  to  me  ;  I 
have  made  a  great  many  successful  trials  of 
my  power,  and  the  affair  of  this  afternoon 
was  nothing  but  a  trial  of  my  powers  on  a 
more  extensive  scale  than  anything  I  have 
yet  attempted.  I  wanted  to  see  if  it  were 
possible  for  me  to  hypnotize  a  considerable 
number  of  people  without  anyone  suspecting 
what  I  intended  to  do.  The  result  was  a 
success.  I  hypnotized  all  those  people  by 
means  of  the  first  part  of  my  performance, 
which  consisted  of  some  combinations  of  col 
ored  glass  with  lights  thrown  upon  them. 
They  revolved,  and  looked  like  fireworks, 
and  were  strung  on  a  wire  high  up  on  the 
stage. 

"  I  kept  up  the  glittering  and  dazzling  show 
—which  was  well  worth  seeing,  I  can  assure 
you — until  the  people  had  been  straining 
their  eyes  upward  for  almost  half  an  hour ; 
and  this  sort  of  thing — I  will  tell  you  if  you 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  31 

do  not  know  it — is  one  of  the  methods  of 
producing  hypnotic  sleep. 

"  There  was  no  one  present  who  was  not 
an  impressionable  subject,  for  I  was  very 
careful  in  sending  out  my  invitations,  and 
when  I  became  almost  certain  that  my  audi 
ence  was  thoroughly  hypnotized,  I  stopped 
the  show,  and  began  the  real  exhibition, 
which  was  not  really  for  their  benefit,  but  for 
mine. 

"  Of  course,  I  was  dreadfully  anxious  for 
fear  I  had  not  succeeded  entirely,  and  that 
there  might  be  at  least  some  one  person  who 
had  not  succumbed  to  the  hypnotic  influences, 
and  so  I  tested  the  matter  by  bringing  out 
that  table,  and  telling  them  it  was  something 
it  was  not.  If  I  had  had  any  reason  for  sup 
posing  that  some  of  the  audience  saw  the 
table  as  it  really  was,  I  had  an  explanation 
ready,  and  I  could  have  retired  from  my  po 
sition  without  any  one  supposing  that  I  had 
intended  making  hypnotic  experiments.  The 
rest  of  the  exhibition  would  have  been  some 
things  that  any  one  could  see,  and  as  soon  as 
possible  I  would  have  released  from  their 
spell  those  who  were  hypnotized.  But  when 
I  became  positively  assured  that  every  one 


32  THE  MAGIC  EGG 

saw  a  light  pine  table  with  four  straight  legs, 
I  confidently  went  on  with  the  performances 
of  the  magic  egg." 

Edith  Stan*  was  still  standing  by  the  library 
table.  She  had  not  heeded  Loring's  advice  to 
sit  down,  and  she  was  trembling  with  emotion. 

"Herbert  Loring,"  she  said,  "you  invited 
my  mother  and  me  to  that  exhibition.  You 
gave  us  tickets  for  front  seats,  where  we  would 
be  certain  to  be  hypnotized  if  your  experi 
ment  succeeded,  and  you  would  have  made 
us  see  that  false  show,  which  faded  from 
those  people's  minds  as  soon  as  they  recov 
ered  from  the  spell ;  for  as  they  went  away 
they  were  talking  only  of  the  fireworks,  and 
not  one  of  them  mentioned  a  magic  egg,  or  a 
chicken,  or  anything  of  the  kind.  Answer 
me  this :  did  you  not  intend  that  I  should 
come  and  be  put  under  that  spell  ?  " 

Loring  smiled.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  of  course 
I  did;  but  then  your  case  would  have  been 
different  from  that  of  the  other  spectators,  I 
should  have  explained  the  whole  thing  to 
you,  and  I  am  sure  we  would  have  had  a 
great  deal  of  pleasure,  and  profit  too,  in  dis 
cussing  your  experiences.  The  subject  is 
extremely " 


THE  MAGIC  EGG  33 

"  Explain  to  me !  "  she  cried.  "  You  would 
not  have  dared  to  do  it !  I  do  not  know  how 
brave  you  may  be,  but  I  know  you  would  not 
have  had  the  courage  to  come  here  and  tell 
me  that  you  had  taken  away  my  reason  and 
my  judgment,  as  you  took  them  away  from 
all  those  people,  and  that  you  had  made  me 
a  mere  tool  of  your  will — glaring  and  panting 
with  excitement  at  the  wonderful  things  you 
told  me  to  see  where  nothing  existed.  I  have 
nothing  to  say  about  the  others;  they  can 
speak  for  themselves  if  they  ever  come  to 
know  what  you  did  to  them.  I  speak  for 
myself.  I  stood  up  with  the  rest  of  the  peo 
ple.  I  gazed  with  all  my  power,  and  over 
and  over  again  I  asked  myself  if  it  could  be 
possible  that  anything  was  the  matter  with 
my  eyes  or  my  brain,  and  if  I  could  be  the 
only  person  there  who  could  not  see  the  mar 
vellous  spectacle  that  you  were  describing. 
But  now  I  know  that  nothing  was  real,  not 
even  the  little  pine  table,  not  even  the  man  !  " 

"  Not  even  me  !  "  exclaimed  Loring.  "  Sure 
ly  I  was  real  enough  !  " 

"  On  that  stage,  yes,"  she  said  ;  "  but  you 
there  proved  you  were  not  the  Herbert  Lor 
ing  to  whom  I  promised  myself.  He  was  an 


34:  THE  MAOIG  EGG 

unreal  being.  If  he  had  existed  he  would 
not  have  been  a  man  who  would  have  brought 
me  to  that  public  place,  all  ignorant  of  his 
intentions,  to  cloud  my  perceptions,  to  sub 
ject  my^  intellect  to  his  own,  and  make  me 
believe  a  lie.  If  a  man  should  treat  me  in 
that  way  once  he  would  treat  me  so  at  other 
times,  and  in  other  ways,  if  he  had  the  chance. 
You  have  treated  me  in  the  past  as  to-day  you 
treated  those  people  who  glared  at  the  magic 
egg.  In  the  days  gone  by  you  made  me  see 
an  unreal  man,  but  you  will  never  do  it  again ! 
Good-by." 

"Edith,"  cried  Loring,  "  you  don't " 

But  she  had  disappeared  through  a  side- 
door,  and  he  never  spoke  to  her  again. 

Walking  home  through  the  dimly  lighted 
streets,  Loring  involuntarily  spoke  aloud : 

"  And  this,"  he  said,  "  is  what  came  out  of 
the  magic  egg !  " 


THE  STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR 
ROHAN 


THE  STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR 
ROHAN 

DTJKING  the  winter  in  which  I  reached 
my  twenty-fifth  year,  I  lived  with  my 
mother's  brother,  Dr.  Alfred  Morris,  in  War- 
burton,  a  small  country  town,  and  I  was  there 
beginning  the  practice  of  medicine.  I  had 
been  graduated  in  the  spring,  and  my  uncle 
earnestly  advised  me  to  come  to  him  and  act 
as  his  assistant,  which  advice,  considering  the 
fact  that  he  was  an  elderly  man,  and  that  I 
might  hope  to  succeed  him  in  his  excellent 
practice,  was  considered  good  advice  by  my 
self  and  my  family. 

At  this  time  I  practised  very  little,  but 
learned  a  great  deal,  for  as  I  often  accompan 
ied  my  uncle  on  his  professional  visits,  I 
could  not  have  taken  a  better  post-graduate 
course.  I  had  an  invitation  to  spend  the 
Christmas  of  that  year  with  the  Colling- 
woods,  who  had  opened  their  country  house, 


38      STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

about  twelve  miles  from  Warburton,  for  the 
entertainment  of  a  holiday  house  party.  I 
had  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  on  the 
day  before  Christmas  I  went  to  the  livery 
stable  in  the  village  to  hire  a  horse  and 
sleigh  for  the  trip.  At  the  stable  I  met 
"  Uncle  Beamish,"  who  had  also  come  to  hire 
a  conveyance. 

Uncle  Beamish,  as  he  was  generally  called 
in  the  village,  although  I  am  sure  he  had  no 
nephews  or  nieces  in  the  place,  was  an  elder 
ly  man  who  had  retired  from  some  business, 
I  know  not  what,  and  was  apparently  quite 
able  to  live  upon  whatever  income  he  had. 
He  was  a  good  man,  rather  illiterate,  but  very 
shrewd.  Generous  in  good  works,  I  do  not 
think  he  was  fond  of  giving  away  money,  but 
his  services  were  at  the  call  of  all  who  need 
ed  them. 

I  liked  Uncle  Beamish  very  much,  for  he 
was  not  only  a  good  story-teller,  but  he  was 
willing  to  listen  to  my  stories,  and  when  I 
found  he  wanted  to  hire  a  horse  and  sleigh  to 
go  to  the  house  of  his  married  sister,  with 
whom  he  intended  to  spend  Christmas,  and 
that  his  sister  lived  on  Upper  Hill  turnpike, 
on  which  road  the  Collingwood  house  was 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN     39 

situated,  I  proposed  that  we  should  hire  a 
sleigh  together. 

"  That  will  suit  me,"  said  Uncle  Beamish. 
"  There  couldn't  have  been  a  better  fit  if  I 
had  been  measured  for  it.  Less  than  half  a 
mile  after  you  turn  into  the  turnpike,  you  pass 
my  sister's  house ;  then  you  can  drop  me  and 
go  on  to  the  Collingwoods,  which  I  should 
say  isn't  more  than  three  miles  furder." 

The  arrangement  was  made,  a  horse  and 
sleigh  ordered,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  we 
started  from  AVarburton. 

The  sleighing  was  good,  but  the  same 
could  not  be  said  of  the  horse  ;  he  was  a  big 
roan,  powerful  and  steady,  but  entirely  too 
deliberate  in  action.  Uncle  Beamish,  how 
ever,  was  quite  satisfied  with  him. 

"  What  you  want  when  you  are  going  to 
take  a  journey  with  a  horse,"  said  he,  "is 
stayin'  power.  Your  fast  trotter  is  all  very 
well  for  a  mile  or  two,  but  if  I  have  got  to  go 
into  the  country  in  winter,  give  me  a  horse 
like  this." 

I  did  not  agree  with  him,  but  we  jogged 
along  quite  pleasantly  until  the  afternoon 
grew  prematurely  dark  and  it  began  to  snow. 

"Now,"  said  I,  giving  the  roan  a  useless 


40      STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

cut,  "  what  we  ought  to  have  is  a  fast  horse, 
so  that  we  may  get  there  before  there  is  a 
storm." 

"No,  Doctor,  you're  wrong,"  said  Uncle 
Beamish.  "  What  we  want  is  a  strong  horse 
that  will  take  us  there  whether  it  storms  or 
not,  and  we  have  got  him.  And  who  cares 
for  a  little  snow  that  won't  hurt  nobody." 
/  I  did  not  care  for  snow,  and  we  turned  up 
our  collars  and  went  as  merrily  as  people  cai 
go  to  the  music  of  slowly  jingling  sleigh- 
bells. 

The  snow  began  to  fall  rapidly,  and,  what 
was  worse,  the  wind  blew  directly  in  our 
faces,  so  that  sometimes  my  eyes  were  so 
plastered  up  with  snow-flakes  that  I  could 
scarcely  see  how  to  drive.  I  never  knew 
snow  to  fall  with  such  violence  ;  the  roadway 
in  front  of  us,  as  far  as  I  could  see  it,  was 
soon  one  unbroken  stretch  of  white  from 
fence  to  fence. 

"  This  is  the  big  storm  of  the  season,"  said 
Uncle  Beamish,  "  and  it  is  a  good  thing  we 
started  in  time,  for  if  the  wind  keeps  blowin', 
this  road  will  be  pretty  hard  to  travel  in  a 
couple  of  hours." 

In  about  half  an  hour  the  wind  lulled  a  lit- 


H 

o- 


STAYING  POWER  OF1  SIB  ROHAN      41 

tie  and  I  could  get  a  better  view  of  our  sur 
roundings,  although  I  could  not  see  very  far 
through  the  swiftly  descending  snow. 

"  I  was  tlrinkin',"  said  Uncle  Beamish, 
"  that  it  might  be  a  good  idee,  when  we  get 
to  Crocker's  place,  to  stop  a  little,  and  let 
you  warm  your  fingers  and  nose.  Crocker's 
is  ruther  more  than  half-way  to  the  pike." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  want  to  stop  anywhere," 
I  replied,  quickly ;  "  I  am  all  right." 

Nothing  was  said  for  some  time  and  then 
Uncle  Beamish  remarked : 

"  I  don't  want  to  stop  any  more  than  you 
do,  but  it  does  seem  strange  that  we  ain't 
passed  Crocker's  yit ;  we  could  hardly  miss 
his  house,  it  is  so  close  to  the  road.  This 
horse  is  slow,  but  I  tell  you  one  thing,  Doc 
tor,  he's  improvin' ;  he  is  goin'  better  than  he 
did.  That's  the  way  with  this  kind ;  it  takes 
them  a  good  while  to  get  warmed  up,  but  they 
keep  on  get  bin'  fresher  instead  of  tireder." 

The  big  roan  was  going  better,  but  still  we 
did  not  reach  Crocker's,  which  disappointed 
Uncle  Beamish,  who  wanted  to  be  assured 
that  the  greater  part  of  his  journey  was  over. 

"We  must  have  passed  it,"  he  said,  "  when 
the  snow  was  so  blindin'." 


42      STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

I  did  not  wish  to  discourage  him  by  saying 
that  I  did  not  think  we  had  yet  reached 
Crocker's,  but  I  believed  I  had  a  much  better 
appreciation  of  our  horse's  slowness  than  he 
had. 

Again  the  wind  began  to  blow  in  our  faces, 
and  the  snow  fell  faster,  but  the  violence  of 
the  storm  seemed  to  encourage  our  horse,  for 
his  pace  was  now  greatly  increased. 

"That's  the  sort  of  beast  to  have,"  ex 
claimed  Uncle  Beamish,  spluttering  as  the 
snow  blew  in  his  mouth  ;  "  he  is  gettin'  his 
spirits  up  just  when  they  are  most  wanted. 
We  must  have  passed  Crocker's  a  good  while 
ago,  and  it  can't  be  long  before  we  get  to  the 
pike ;  and  it's  time  we  was  there,  for  it's 
darkenin'." 

On  and  on  we  went,  but  still  we  did  not 
reach  the  pike.  We  had  lost  a  great  deal 
of  time  during  the  first  part  of  the  journey 
and,  although  the  horse  was  travelling  so 
much  better  now,  his  pace  was  below  the 
average  of  good  roadsters. 

"When  we  get  to  the  pike,"  said  Uncle 
Beamish,  "you  can't  miss  it,  for  this  road 
doesn't  cross  it ;  all  you've  got  to  do  is  to 
turn  to  the  left,  and  in  ten  minutes  you  will 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      43 

see  the  lights  in  my  sister's  house ;  and  I'll 
tell  you,  Doctor,  if  you  would  like  to  stop 
there  for  the  night,  she'd  be  mighty  glad  to 
have  you." 

"  Much  obliged,"  replied  I,  "  but  I  shall  go 
on;  it's  not  late  yet,  and  I  can  reach  the 
Collingwoods  in  good  time." 

We  now  drove  on  in  silence,  our  horse 
actually  arching  his  neck  as  he  thumped 
through  the  snow.  Drifts  had  begun  to  form 
across  the  road,  but  through  these  he  bravely 
plunged. 

"  Stayin'  power  is  what  we  want,  Doctor," 
exclaimed  Uncle  Beamish ;  "  where  would 
your  fast  trotter  be  in  drifts  like  these,  I'd 
like  to  know  ?  We  got  the  right  horse  when 
we  got  this  one,  but  I  wish  we  had  been  goin' 
this  fast  all  the  time." 

It  grew  darker  and  darker,  but  at  last  we 
saw  not  far  in  front  of  us  a  light. 

"  That  beats  me,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "  I 
don't  remember  no  other  house  so  near  the 
road.  It  can't  be  we  ain't  passed  Crocker's 
yit.  If  we  ain't  got  no  furder  than  that,  I'm 
in  favor  of  stoppin'.  I'm  not  afraid  of  a 
snowstorm,  but  I  ain't  a  fool  nuther,  and  if 
we  haven't  got  furder  than  Crocker's  it  will 


44:       STATING  POWER   OF  SIR  ROHAN 

be  foolhardy  to  try  to  push  on  through  the 
dark  and  these  big  drifts  which  will  be  gettin' 
bigger." 

I  did  not  give  it  up  so  easily.  I  greatly 
wished  to  reach  my  destination  that  night. 
But  there  were  three  wills  in  the  party,  and 
one  of  them  belonged  to  the  horse.  Before  I 
had  any  idea  of  such  a  thing  the  animal  made 
a  sudden  turn,  too  sudden  for  safety,  passed 
through  a  wide  gateway,  and  after  a  few  rapid 
bounds  which,  to  my  surprise,  I  could  not 
restrain,  he  stopped  suddenly. 

"  Hello  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Beamish,  peer 
ing  forward,  "  here's  a  barn-door,"  and  he  im 
mediately  began  to  throw  off  the  fur  robe 
that  covered  our  knees. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  open  the  barn-door  and  let 
the  horse  go  in,"  said  he,  "  he  seems  to  want 
to.  I  don't  know  whether  this  is  Crocker's 
barn  or  not ;  it  don't  look  like  it,  but  I  may  be 
mistaken.  Anyway  we  will  let  the  horse  in 
and  then  go  to  the  house.  This  ain't  no 
night  to  be  travellin'  any  furder,  Doctor,  and 
that  is  the  long  and  the  short  of  it.  If  the 
people  here  ain't  Crockers,  I  guess  they  are 
Christians!" 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      45 

I  had  not  much  time  to  consider  the  situa 
tion,  for  while  he  had  been  speaking,  Uncle 
Beamish  had  waded  through  the  snow,  and 
finding  the  barn-door  unfastened  had  slid  it 
to  one  side.  Instantly  the  horse  entered  the 
dark  barn,  fortunately  finding  nothing  in  his 
way. 

"Now,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "if  we  can 
get  somethin'  to  tie  him  with,  so  that  he  don't 
do  no  mischief,  we  can  leave  him  here  and  go 
up  to  the  house." 

I  carried  a  pocket  lantern,  and  quickly 
lighted  it. 

"  By  George !  "  said  Uncle  Beamish,  as 
I  held  up  the  lantern,  "  this  ain't  much  of 
a  barn,  it's  no  more  than  a  wagon-house ;  it 
ain't  Crocker's — but  no  matter — we'll  go  up 
to  the  house.  Here  is  a  hitchin'  rope." 

We  fastened  the  horse,  threw  a  robe  over 
him,  shut  the  barn-door  behind  us,  and 
slowly  made  our  way  to  the  back  of  the 
house  in  which  there  was  a  lighted  window. 
Mounting  a  little  portico  we  reached  a  door, 
and  were  about  to  knock,  when  it  was  opened 
for  us.  A  woman,  plainly  a  servant,  stood  in 
a  kitchen,  light  and  warm. 

"  Come  right  in,"  she  said,  "  I  heard  youi 


46       STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

bells.  Did  you  put  your  horse  in  the 
barn?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "  and  now  we 
would  like  to  see " 

"  All  right,"  interrupted  the  woman,  mov 
ing  toward  an  inner  door.  "  Just  wait  here 
for  a  minute ;  I'm  going  up  to  tell  her." 

"I  don't  know  this  place,"  said  Uncle 
Beamish,  as  we  stood  by  the  kitchen  stove, 
"but  I  expect  it  belongs  to  a  widow  woman." 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  'Cause  she  said  she  was  goin'  to  tell  her. 
If  there  had  been  a  man  in  the  house  she 
would  have  gone  to  tell  him.'" 

In  a  few  moments  the  woman  returned. 

"She  says  you  are  to  take  off  your  wet 
things  and  then  go  into  the  sitting-room. 
She'll  be  down  in  a  minute." 

I  looked  at  Uncle  Beamish,  thinking  it  was 
his  right  to  make  explanations,  but,  giving 
me  a  little  wink,  he  began  to  take  off  his 
overcoat.  It  was  plain  to  perceive  that  Un 
cle  Beamish  desired  to  assume  that  a  place  of 
refuge  would  be  offered  us. 

"  It's  an  awful  bad  night,"  he  said  to  the 
woman,  as  he  sat  down  to  take  off  his  Arctic 
overshoes. 


STAYING  POWER  OF  STR  ROHAN      47 

"  It's  all  that,"  said  she.  "  You  may  hang 
your  coats  over  them  chairs  ;  it  won't  matter 
if  they  do  drip  on  this  bare  floor.  Now,  then, 
come  right  into  the  sitting-room." 

In  spite  of  my  disappointment  I  was  glad 
to  be  in  a  warm  house,  and  hoped  we  might 
be  able  to  stay  there.  I  could  hear  the  storm 
beating  furiously  against  the  window-panes 
behind  the  drawn  shades.  There  was  a  stove 
in  the  sitting-room  and  a  large  lamp. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  woman,  "  she  will  be 
here  in  a  minute." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  when 
we  were  left  alone,  "  that  somebody  is  ex 
pected  in  this  house,  most  likely  to  spend 
Christmas,  and  that  we  are  mistook  for  tnem, 
whoever  they  are." 

"  I  have  the  same  idea,"  I  replied,  "and  we 
must  explain  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Of  course  we  will  do  that,"  said  he,  "  but 
I  can  tell  you  one  thing  :  whoever  is  expected 
ain't  comin',  for  they  can't  get  here.  But 
we've  got  to  stay  here  to-night,  no  matter 
who  comes  or  doesn't  come,  and  we've  got  to 
be  keerful  in  speaking  to  the  woman  of  the 
house.  If  she  is  one  kind  of  a  person  we  can 
offer  to  pay  for  lodgin's  and  horse-feed ;  but 


48       STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

if  she  is  another  kind,  we  must  steer  clear  of 
mentionin'  pay,  for  it  will  make  her  angry. 
You  had  better  leave  the  explainin'  business 
to  me." 

I  was  about  to  reply  that  I  was  more  than 
willing  to  do  so,  when  the  door  opened  and  a 
person  entered — evidently  the  mistress  of  the 
house.  She  was  tall  and  thin,  past  middle 
age,  and  plainly  dressed.  Her  pale  counte 
nance  wore  a  defiant  look,  and  behind  her 
spectacles  blazed  a  pair  of  dark  eyes,  which, 
after  an  instant's  survey  of  her  visitors,  were 
fixed  steadily  upon  me.  She  made  but  a  step 
into  the  room,  and  stood  holding  the  door. 
We  both  rose  from  our  chairs. 

"  You  can  sit  down  again,"  she  said  sharply 
to  me,  "I  don't  want  you.  Now,  sir,"  she 
continued,  turning  to  Uncle  Beamish,  "  please 
come  with  me." 

Uncle  Beamish  gave  a  glance  of  surprise  at 
me,  but  he  immediately  followed  the  old  lady 
out  of  the  room,  and  the  door  was  closed  be 
hind  them. 

For  ten  minutes,  at  least,  I  sat  quietly  wait 
ing  to  see  what  would  happen  next;  very 
much  surprised  at  the  remark  that  bad  been 
made  to  me,  and  wondering  at  Uncle  Beam- 


STAYING  POWER   OF  SIR  ROHAN      49 

ish's  protracted  absence.  Suddenly  he  en 
tered  the  room  and  closed  the  door. 

"  Here's  a  go,"  said  he,  slapping  his  leg, 
but  very  gently;  "we're  mistook  the  worst 
kind ;  we're  mistook  for  doctors." 

"  That  is  only  half  a  mistake,''  said  I. 
"  What  is  the  matter,  and  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  Nothin',"  said  he,  quickly,  "  that  is, 
nothin'  your  own  self.  Just  the  minute  she 
got  me  outside  that  door  she  began  pitchin' 
into  you.  'I  suppose  that's  young  Dr. 
Glover,'  said  she.  I  told  her  it  was,  and  then 
she  went  on  to  say,  givin'  me  no  chance  to  ex 
plain  nothin',  that  she  didn't  want  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  you,  that  she  thought  it 
was  a  shame  to  turn  people's  houses  into  pau 
pers'  hospitals  for  the  purpose  of  teaching 
medical  students  ;  that  she  had  heard  of  you, 
and  what  she  had  heard  she  hadn't  liked.  All 
this  time  she  kept  goin'  upstairs  and  I  fol- 
lerin'  her,  and  the  fust  thing  I  knowed  she 
opened  a  door  and  went  into  a  room,  and  I 
went  in  after  her,  and  there,  in  a  bed,  was  a 
patient  of  some  kind.  I  was  tuk  back  dread 
ful,  for  the  state  of  the  case  came  to  me  like  a 
flash.  Your  uncle  had  been  sent  for  and  I 
was  mistook  for  him.  Now,  what  to  say  was 


50      STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

a  puzzle  to  me,  and  I  began  to  think  pretty 
fast.  It  was  an  awkward  business  to  have  to 
explain  things  to  that  sharp-set  old  woman. 
The  fact  is  I  didn't  know  how  to  begin,  and 
was  a  good  deal  afraid  besides,  but  she  didn't 
give  me  no  time  for  considerin'.  '  I  think  it's 
her  brain,'  said  she,  '  but  perhaps  you'll  know 
better.  Catherine,  uncover  your  head ! '  and 
with  that  the  patient  turned  over  a  little 
and  uncovered  her  head,  which  she  had  had 
the  sheet  over.  It  was  a  young  woman,  and 
she  gave  me  a  good  look,  but  she  didn't  say 
nothin'.  Now  I  ivas  in  a  state  of  mind." 

"  Of  course  you  must  have  been,"  I  an 
swered.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  her  that  you 
were  not  a  doctor,  but  that  I  was.  It  would 
have  been  easy  enough  to  explain  matters ; 
she  might  have  thought  my  uncle  could  not 
come  and  he  had  sent  me,  and  that  you  had 
come  along  for  company.  The  patient  ought 
to  be  attended  to  without  delay." 

"  She's  got  to  be  attended  to,"  said  Uncle 
Beamish,  "  or  else  there  will  be  a  row  and 
we'll  have  to  travel — storm  or  no  storm.  But 
if  you  had  heard  what  that  old  woman  said 
about  young  doctors,  and  you  in  particular, 
you  would  know  that  you  wasn't  goin'  to  have 


I  HAD  NOTHING  TO  DO  BUT  STEP  UP  AND  FEEL  HER  PULSE." 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      51 

anything  to  do  with  this  case,  at  least  you 
wouldn't  show  in  it.  But  I've  got  no  more  time 
for  talkin' ;  I  came  down  here  on  business. 
When  the  old  lady  said  '  Catherine,  hold  out 
your  hand ! '  and  she  held  it  out,  I  had  nothin' 
to  do  but  step  up  and  feel  her  pulse.  I  know 
how  to  do  that,  for  I  have  done  a  lot  of 
nussin'  in  my  life,  and  then  it  seemed  nat'ral 
to  ask  her  to  £>ut  out  her  tongue,  and  when 
she  did  it  I  gave  a  look  at  it  and  nodded  my 
head.  '  Do  you  think  it  is  her  brain  ?  '  said 
the  old  woman,  half  whisperin'.  '  Can't  say 
anything  about  that  yit,'  said  I,  M  must  go 
downstairs  and  get  the  medicine-case.  The 
fust  thing  to  do  is  to  give  her  a  draught,  and 
I  will  bring  it  up  to  her  as  soon  as  it  is  mixed.' 
You  have  got  a  pocket  medicine-case  with 
you,  haven't  you?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  I,  "  it  is  in  my  overcoat." 
"I  knowed  it,"  said  Uncle  Beamish.  "An 
old  doctor  might  go  visitin'  without  his  medi 
cine-case,  but  a  young  one  would  be  sure  to 
take  it  along,  no  matter  where  he  was  goin'. 
Now  you  get  it,  please,  quick." 

"  My  notion  is,"  said  he,  when  I  returned 
from  the  kitchen  with  the  case,  "that  you  mix 
somethiu'  that  might  soothe  her  a  little,  if  she 


52      STATING  POWER   OF  SIR  ROHAN 

has  got  anything  the  matter  with  her  brain, 
and  which  won't  hurt  her  if  she  hasn't ;  and 
then,  when  I  take  it  up  to  her,  you  tell  me 
what  symptoms  to  look  for.  I  can  do  it,  I 
have  spent  nights  looking  for  symptoms. 
Then,  when  I  come  down  and  report,  you 
might  send  her  up  somethin'  that  would  keep 
her  from  gettiu'  any  wuss  till  the  doctor  can 
come  in  the  mornin',  for  he  ain't  comin'  here 
to-night." 

"  A  very  good  plan,"  said  I.  "  Now,  what 
can  I  give  her  ?  What  is  the  patient's  age  ?  " 

"  Oh,  her  age  don't  matter  much,"  said 
Uncle  Beamish,  impatiently;  "she  may  be 
twenty,  more  or  less,  and  any  mild  stuff  will 
do  to  begin  with." 

"I  will  give  her  some  sweet  spirits  of 
nitre,"  said  I,  taking  out  a  little  vial.  "  Will 
you  ask  the  servant  for  a  glass  of  water  and  a 
teaspoon  ?  " 

"  Now,"  said  I,  when  I  had  quickly  pre 
pared  the  mixture,  "  she  can  have  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  this  and  another  in  ten  minutes, 
and  then  we  will  see  whether  we  will  go  on 
with  it  or  not." 

"  And  what  am  I  to  look  for  ?  "  said  he. 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  I,  producing  a 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      53 

clinical  thermometer,  "you  must  take  her 
temperature  ;  you  know  how  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "  I  have  done  it  hun 
dreds  of  times  ;  she  must  hold  it  in  her  mouth 
five  minutes." 

"  Yes,  and  while  you  are  waiting,"  I  con 
tinued,  "  you  must  try  to  find  out,  in  the  first 
place,  if  there  are,  or  have  been,  any  signs  of 
delirium.  You  might  ask  the  old  lady,  and 
besides,  you  may  be  able  to  judge  for  your 
self." 

"  I  can  do  that,"  said  he,  "  I  have  seen  lots 
of  it." 

"  Then,  again,"  said  I,  "  you  must  observe 
whether  or  not  her  pupils  are  dilated ;  you 
might  also  inquire  whether  there  had  been 
any  partial  paralysis  or  numbness  in  any  part 
of  the  body  ;  these  things  must  be  looked  for 
in  brain  trouble.  Then  you  can  come  down, 
ostensibly  to  prepare  another  prescription, 
and  when  you  have  reported,  I  have  no  doubt 
I  can  give  you  something  which  will  modify, 
or  I  should  say — 

"  Hold  her  where  she  is  till  mornin',"  said 
Uncle  Beamish ;  "  that's  what  you  mean. 
Be  quick ;  give  me  that  thermometer  and 
the  tumbler,  and  when  I  come  down  again,  I 


54      STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

reckon  you  can  fit  her  out  Avith  a  prescription 
just  as  good  as  anybody." 

He  hurried  away  and  I  sat  down  to  con 
sider.  I  was  full  of  ambition,  full  of  enthu 
siasm  for  the  practice  of  my  profession.  I 
would  have  been  willing  to  pay  largely  for 
the  privilege  of  undertaking  an  important 
case,  by  myself,  in  which  it  would  depend 
upon  me  whether  or  not  I  should  call  in  a 
consulting  brother.  So  far,  in  the  cases  I 
had  undertaken,  a  consulting  brother  had 
always  called  himself  in  ;  that  is,  I  had  prac 
tised  in  hospitals  or  with  my  uncle.  Perhaps 
it  might  be  found  necessary,  notwithstanding 
all  that  had  been  said  against  me,  that  I 
should  go  up  to  take  charge  of  this  case.  I 
wished  I  had  not  forgotten  to  ask  the  old 
man  how  he  had  found  the  tongue  and  pulse. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Uncle 
Beamish  returned. 

"Well,"  said  I,  quickly,  "what  are  the 
symptoms  ?  " 

"I'll  give  them  to  you,"  said  he,  taking  his 
seat.  "  I'm  not  in  such  a  hurry  now,  because 
I  told  the  old  woman  I  would  like  to  wait  a 
little  and  see  how  that  fust  medicine  acted. 
The  patient  spoke  to  me  this  time ;  when  I 


STAYING  POWER   OF  SIR  ROHAN      55 

took  the  thermometer  out  of  her  mouth  she 
says,  'You  are  comin'  up  agin,  Doctor?' 
speaking  low  and  quickish,  as  if  she  wanted 
nobody  but  me  to  hear." 

"  But  how  about  the  symptoms  ?  "  said  I, 
impatiently. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  in  the  fust  place 
her  temperature  is  ninety-eight  and  a  half, 
and  that's  about  nat'ral,  I  take  it." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  but  you  didn't  tell  me 
about  her  tongue  and  pulse." 

"There  wasn't  nothin'  remarkable  about 
them,"  said  he. 

"All  of  which  means,"  I  remarked,  "that 
there  is  no  fever ;  but  that  is  not  at  all  a  nec 
essary  accompaniment  of  brain  derangements. 
How  about  the  dilatation  of  her  pupils  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  none,"  said  Uncle  Beamish, 
"  they  are  rather  squinched  up  if  anything  ; 
and  as  to  delirium,  I  couldn't  see  no  signs  of 
it,  and  when  I  asked  the  old  lady  about  the 
numbness,  she  said  she  didn't  believe  there 
had  been  any." 

"  No  tendency  to  shiver,  no  disposition  to 
stretch  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  old  man,  "  no  chance  for 
quinine." 


56      STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

"  The  trouble  is,"  said  I,  standing  before 
the  stove  and  fixing  my  mind  upon  the  case 
with  earnest  intensity,  "  that  there  are  so  few 
symptoms  in  brain  derangement.  If  I  could 
only  get  hold  of  something  tangible " 

"  If  I  was  you,"  interrupted  Uncle  Beam 
ish,  "I  wouldn't  try  to  get  hold  of  nothin'. 
I  would  just  give  her  somethin'  to  keep  her 
where  she  is  till  mornin'.  If  you  can  do  that, 
I'll  guarantee  that  any  good  doctor  can  take 
her  up  and  go  on  with  her  to-morrow." 

Without  noticing  the  implication  contained 
in  these  remarks,  I  continued  my  considera 
tion  of  the  case. 

"If  I  could  get  a  drop  of  her  blood," 
said  I. 

"  No,  no ! "  exclaimed  Uncle  Beamish, 
"  I'm  not  goin'  to  do  anything  of  that  sort. 
What  in  the  name  of  common  sense  would 
you  do  with  her  blood  ?  " 

"I  would  examine  it  microscopically,"  I 
said.  "  I  might  find  out  all  I  want  to  know." 

Uncle  Beamish  did  not  sympathize  with 
this  method  of  diagnosis. 

"  If  you  did  find  out  there  was  the  wrong 
kind  of  germs,  jou  couldn't  do  anything  with 
them  to-night,  and  it  would  just  worry  you," 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      57 

said  the  old  man.  "  I  believe  that  nature  will 
git  along  fust  rate  without  any  help,  at  least 
till  mornin'.  But  you've  got  to  give  her  some 
medicine,  not  so  much  for  her  good  as  for  our 
good.  If  she's  not  treated  we're  bounced. 
Can't  you  give  her  somethin'  that  would  do 
anybody  good,  no  matter  what's  the  matter 
with  'em  ?  If  it  was  the  spring  of  the  year  I 
would  say  sarsaparilla.  If  you  could  mix  her 
up  somethin'  and  put  it  into  some  of  them 
benevolent  microbes  the  doctors  talk  about,  it 
would  be  a  good  deed  to  do  to  anybody." 

"The  benign  bacilli,"  said  I;  "unfortu 
nately  I  haven't  any  of  them  with  me." 

"  And  if  you  had,"  he  remarked,  "  I'd  be  in 
favor  of  givin'  'em  to  the  old  woman.  I  take 
it  they  would  do  her  more  good  than  anybody 
else.  Come  along  now,  Doctor,  it  is  about  time 
forme  to  go  upstairs  and  see  how  the  other 
stuff  acted — not  on  the  patient,  I  don't  mean, 
but  on  the  old  woman.  The  fact  is,  you 
know,  it's  her  we're  dosin'." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  I,  speaking  a  little  se 
verely,  "  I  am  trying  to  do  my  very  best  for 
the  patient,  but  I  fear  I  cannot  do  it  without 
seeing  her.  Don't  you  think  that  if  you  told 
the  old  lady  how  absolutely  necessary " 


58       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

11  Don't  say  anything  more  about  that,"  ex 
claimed  Uncle  Beamish.  "  I  hoped  I  wouldn't 
have  to  mention  it,  but  she  told  me  agin  that 
she  would  never  have  one  of  those  unfledged 
medical  students,  just  out  of  the  egg-shell, 
experimentin'  on  any  of  her  family,  and  from 
what  she  said  about  you  in  particular,  I  should 
say  she  considered  you  as  a  medical  chick 
without  even  down  on  you." 

"  What  can  she  know  of  me  ?  "  I  asked,  in 
dignantly. 

"  Give  it  up,"  said  he,  "  can't  guess  it ;  but 
that  ain't  the  pint — the  pint  is,  what  are  you 
goiii'  to  give  her  ?  When  I  was  young  the 
doctors  used  to  say,  when  you  are  in  doubt, 
give  calomel,  as  if  you  were  playin'  trumps." 

"  Nonsense,  nonsense,"  said  I,  my  eyes 
earnestly  fixed  upon  my  open  medical  case. 

"  I  suppose  a  mustard  plaster  on  the  back 
of  her  neck " 

"  Wouldn't  do  at  all,"  I  interrupted.  "  Wait 
a  minute  now — yes — I  know  what  I  will  do, 
I  will  give  her  sodium  bromide,  ten  grains." 

"  '  Which  will  hit  if  it's  a  deer  and  miss  if 
it's  a  calf,'  as  the  hunter  said?  "  inquired 
Uncle  Beamish. 

"  It  will  certainly  not  injure  her,"  said  I, 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      59 

"  and  I  am  quite  sure  it  will  be  a  positive  ad 
vantage.  If  there  has  been  cerebral  disturb 
ance,  which  has  subsided  temporarily,  it  will 
assist  her  to  tide  over  the  interim  before  its 
recurrence." 

"  All  right,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "  give  it 
to  me  and  I'll  be  off ;  it's  time  I  showed  up 
agin." 

He  did  not  stay  upstairs  very  long,  this 
time. 

"  No  symptoms  yit,  but  the  patient  looked 
at  me  as  if  she  wanted  to  say  something  but 
she  didn't  git  no  chance,  for  the  old  lady 
set  herself  down  as  if  she  was  planted  in  a 
garden-bed  and  intended  to  stay  there  ;  but 
the  patient  took  the  medicine  as  mild  as  a 
lamb." 

"  That  is  very  good,"  said  I.  "  It  may  be 
that  she  appreciates  the  seriousness  of  her 
case  better  than  we  do." 

"  I  should  say  she  wants  to  git  well,"  he 
replied,  "  she  looks  like  that  sort  of  a  person 
to  me.  The  old  woman  said  she  thought  we 
would  have  to  stay  awhile  till  the  storm  slack 
ened,  and  I  said,  yes,  indeed,  and  there  wasn't 
any  chance  of  its  slackenin'  to-night ;  besides, 
I  wanted  to  see  the  patient  before  bedtime." 


60      STATING  POWER   OF  SIR  ROHAN 

At  this  moment  tlie  door  opened  and  the 
servant  woman  came  in. 

"  She  says  you  are  to  have  supper,  and  it  will 
be  ready  in  about  half  an  hour.  One  of  you 
had  better  go  out  and  attend  to  your  horse, 
for  the  man  is  not  coming  back  to-night." 

"  I  will  go  to  the  barn,"  said  I,  rising.  Un 
cle  Beamish  also  rose  and  said  he  would  go 
with  me. 

"  I  guess  you  can  find  some  hay  and  oats," 
said  the  woman,  as  we  were  putting  on  our 
coats  and  overshoes  in  the  kitchen,  "  and 
here's  a  lantern.  We  don't  keep  no  horse 
now,  but  there's  feed  left." 

As  we  pushed  through  the  deep  snow  into 
the  barn,  Uncle  Beamish  said  : 

"  I've  been  tryin'  my  best  to  think  where 
we  are,  without  askin'  any  questions,  and  I'm 
dead  beat ;  I  don't  remember  no  such  house 
as  this  on  the  road." 

"  Perhaps  we  got  off  the  road,"  said  I. 

"  That  may  be,''  said  he  as  we  entered  the 
barn ;  "  it's  a  straight  road  from  Warburton 
to  the  pike  near  my  sister's  house,  but  there's 
two  other  roads  that  branch  off  to  the  right 
and  strike  the  pike  furder  off  to  the  east; 
perhaps  we  got  on  one  of  them  in  all  that 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      61 

darkness  and  perplexing  whiteness,  when  it 
wasn't  easy  to  see  whether  we  were  keepin'  a 
straight  road  or  not." 

The  horse  neighed  as  we  approached  with 
a  light. 

"  I  would  not  be  at  all  surprised,"  said  I, 
"  if  this  horse  had  once  belonged  here  and 
that  was  the  reason  why,  as  soon  as  he  got  a 
chance,  he  turned  and  made  straight  for  his 
old  home." 

"  That  isn't  unlikely,"  said  Uncle  Beamish, 
"  and  that's  the  reason  we  did  not  pass  Crock 
er's.  But  here  we  are,  wherever  it  is,  and 
here  we've  got  to  stay  till  mornin'." 

We  found  hay  and  oats  and  a  pump  in  the 
corner  of  the  wagon-house,  and,  having  put 
the  horse  in  the  stall  and  made  him  as  com 
fortable  as  possible  with  some  old  blankets, 
we  returned  to  the  house,  bringing  our  valises 
with  us. 

Our  supper  was  served  in  the  sitting-room 
because  there  was  a  good  fire  there,  and  the 
servant  told  us  we  would  have  to  eat  by  our 
selves,  as  she  was  not  coming  down. 

"We'll  excuse  her,"  said  Uncle  Beamish, 
with  an  alacrity  of  expression  that  might  have 
caused  suspicion. 


62      STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

We  had  a  good  supper,  and  were  then 
shown  a  room  on  the  first  floor  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hall,  where  the  servant  said  we 
were  to  sleep. 

We  sat  by  the  stove  awhile,  waiting  for 
developments,  but,  as  Uncle  Beamish's  bed 
time  was  rapidly  approaching,  he  sent  word 
to  the  sick- chamber  that  he  was  coining  up 
for  his  final  visit. 

This  time  he  stayed  upstairs  but  a  few  min 
utes. 

"  She's  fast  asleep,"  said  he,  "  and  the  old 
woman  says  she'll  call  me  if  I'm  needed  in 
the  night,  and  you'll  have  to  jump  up  sharp 
and  overhaul  that  medicine  case,  if  that  hap 
pens." 

The  next  morning,  and  very  early  in  the 
morning,  I  was  awaked  by  Uncle  Beamish, 
who  stood  at  my  side. 

"Look  here,"  said  he,  I've  been  outside: 
it's  stopped  snowin'  and  it's  clearin'  off.  I've 
been  to  the  barn  and  I've  fed  the  horse,  and 
I  tell  you  what  I'm  in  favor  of  doin'.  There's 
nobody  up  yit  and  I  don't  want  to  stay  here 
and  make  no  explanations  to  that  old  woman. 
I  don't  fancy  gettin'  into  rows  on  Christmas 
mornin'.  We've  done  all  the  good  we  can 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      63 

here,  and  the  best  thing  we  can  do  now  is  to 
get  away  before  anybody  is  up  and  leave  a 
note  sayin'  that  we've  got  to  go  on  without 
losing  time,  and  that  we  will  send  another 
doctor  as  soon  as  possible.  My  sister's  doc 
tor  don't  live  fur  away  from  her,  and  I  know 
she  will  be  willin'  to  send  for  him.  Then  our 
duty  will  be  done,  and  what  the  old  woman 
thinks  of  us  won't  makejio  difference  to  no 
body." 

"That  plan  suits  me,"  said  I,  rising;  "I 
don't  want  to  stay  here  and,  as  I  am  not  to 
be  allowed  to  see  the  patient,  there  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  stay.  What  we  have 
done  will  more  than  pay  for  our  supper  and 
lodgings,  so  that  our  consciences  are  clear." 

"  But  you  must  write  a  note,"  said  Uncle 
Beamish.  "  Got  any  paper  ? ' ' 

I  tore  a  leaf  from  my  note-book  and  went 
to  the  window,  where  it  was  barely  light 
enough  for  me  to  see  how  to  write. 

"Make  it  short,"  said  the  old  man,  "I'm 
awful  fidgetty  to  get  off." 

I  made  it  very  short,  and  then,  valises  in 
hand,  we  quietly  took  our  way  to  the  kitchen. 

"  How  this  floor  does  creak !  "  said  Uncle 
Beamish.  "  Get  on  your  overcoat  and  shoes 


64:       STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

as  quick  as  you  can,  and  we  will  leave  the 
note  on  this  table." 

I  had  just  shaken  myself  into  my  overcoat 
when  Uncle  Beamish  gave  a  subdued  excla 
mation,  and  quickly  turning,  I  saw  entering 
the  kitchen,  a  female  figure  in  winter  wraps 
and  carrying  a  hand-bag. 

1  'By  George!''  whispered  the  old  man, 
' 'it's  the  patient!" 

The  figure  advanced  directly  toward  me. 

"Oh,  Dr.  Glover!"  she  whispered,  "I  am 
so  glad  to  get  down  before  you  went  away.' ' 

I  stared  in  amazement  at  the  speaker,  but 
even  in  the  dim  light  I  recognized  her.  This 
was  the  human  being  whose  expected  presence 
at  the  Collingwood  mansion  was  taking  me 
there  to  spend  Christmas. 

"  Kitty  !  "  I  exclaimed — "  Miss  Burroughs, 
I  mean — what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  ' ' 

"  Don't  ask  me  for  any  meanings  now,''  she 
said,  "  I  want  you  and  your  uncle  to  take  me 
to  the  Collingwoods.  I  suppose  you  are  on  your 
way  there,  for  they  wrote  you  were  coming 
— and,  oh  !  let  us  be  quick,  for  I'm  afraid 
Jane  will  come  down  and  she  will  be  sure  to 
wake  up  Aunty.  I  saw  one  of  you  go  out  to 
the  barn  and  knew  you  intended  to  leave,  so 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      65 

I  got  ready  just  as  fast  as  I  could.  But  I 
must  leave  some  word  for  Aunty." 

"  I  have  written  a  note,"  said  I.  "  But  are 
you  well  enough  to  travel  ?  " 

"  Just  let  me  add  a  line  to  it,"  said  she ;  "I 
am  as  well  as  ever  I  was." 

I  gave  her  a  pencil  and  she  hurriedly  wrote 
something  on  the  paper  which  I  had  left  on 
the  kitchen- table.  Then,  quickly  glancing 
around,  she  picked  up  a  large  carving-fork 
and,  sticking  it  through  the  paper  into  the 
soft  wood  of  the  table,  she  left  it  standing 
there. 

"Now  it  won't  blow  away  when  we  open 
the  door,"  she  whispered.  "  Come  on." 

"  You  cannot  go  out  to  the  barn,"  I  said, 
"we  will  bring  up  the  sleigh." 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no/'  she  answered,  "I  must 
not  wait  here.  If  I  once  get  out  of  the  house 
I  shall  feel  safe.  Of  course  I  shall  go,  any 
way,  but  I  don't  want  any  quarrelling  on  this 
Christmas  morning." 

"I'm  with  you  there,"  said  Uncle  Beamish, 
approvingly.  "  Doctor,  we  can  take  her  to  the 
barn  without  her  touching  the  snow.  Let  her 
sit  in  this  arm-chair,  and  we  can  carry  her 
between  us.  She's  no  weight." 


66       STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

In  half  a  minute  the  kitchen  door  was 
softly  closed  behind  us  and  we  were  carrying 
Miss  Burroughs  to  the  barn.  My  soul  was  in 
a  wild  tumult ;  dozens  of  questions  were  on 
my  tongue,  but  I  had  no  chance  to  ask  any  of 
them. 

Uncle  Beamish  and  I  returned  to  the  porch 
for  the  valises,  and  then,  closing  the  back 
door,  we  rapidly  began  to  make  preparations 
for  leaving. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  as  we 
went  into  the  stable,  leaving  Miss  Burroughs 
in  the  wagon-house,  "that  this  business  is 
all  right  ?  You  seem  to  know  the  young 
woman,  and  she  is  of  age  to  act  for  herself." 

"  Whatever  she  wants  to  do,"  I  answered, 
"  is  perfectly  right ;  you  may  trust  to  that.  I 
do  not  understand  the  matter  any  more  than 
you  do,  but  I  know  she  is  expected  at  the 
Collingwoods  and  wants  to  go  there." 

"  Yery  good,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "  we'll 
get  away  fust  and  ask  explanations  after 
ward." 

"  Doctor  Glover,"  said  Miss  Burroughs  as 
we  led  the  horse  into  the  wagon-house,  "don't 
put  the  bells  on  him ;  stuff  them  gently  under 
the  seat,  as  softly  as  you  can.  But  how  are 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      67 

we  all  to  go  away  ?  I  have  been  looking  at 
that  sleigh,  and  it  is  intended  only  for  two." 

"It's  rather  late  to  think  of  that,  Miss," 
said  Uncle  Beamish,  "but  there's  one  thing 
that's  certain.  We're  both  very  polite  to 
ladies,  but  neither  of  us  is  willin'  to  be  left 
behind  on  this  trip.  But  it's  a  good- sized 
sleigh  and  we'll  all  pack  in,  well  enough.  You 
and  me  can  sit  on  the  back  seat,  and  the  Doc 
tor  can  stand  up  in  front  of  us  and  drive.  In 
old  times  it  was  considered  the  right  thing 
for  the  driver  of  the  sleigh  to  stand  up  and 
do  his  drivin'." 

The  baggage  was  carefully  stowed  away, 
and,  after  a  look  around  the  dimly  lighted 
wagon-house,  Miss  Burroughs  and  Uncle 
Beamish  got  into  the  sleigh  and  I  tucked  the 
big  fur-robe  around  them. 

"  I  hate  to  make  a  journey  before  break 
fast,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  as  I  was  doing 
this,  "especially  on  Christmas  mornin',  but 
somehow  or  other  there  seems  to  be  some- 
thin'  jolly  about  this  business,  and  we  won't 
have  to  wait  so  long  for  breakfast  nuther.  It 
can't  be  far  from  my  sister's,  and  we'll  all 
stop  there  and  have  breakfast ;  then  you  two 
can  leave  me  and  go  on.  She'll  be  as  glad  to 


68       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

see  any  friends  of  mine  as  if  they  were  her 
own.  And  she'll  be  pretty  sure,  on  a  mornin' 
like  this,  to  have  buckwheat  cakes  and  sau 
sages." 

Miss  Burroughs  looked  at  the  old  man  with 
a  puzzled  air,  but  she  asked  him  no  questions. 

"  How  are  you  going  to  keep  yourself  warm, 
Dr.  Glover  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Oh,  this  long  ulster  will  be  enough  for 
me,"  I  replied,  "  and  as  I  shall  stand  up,  I 
could  not  use  a  robe  if  we  had  another." 

In  fact,  the  thought  of  being  with  Miss 
Burroughs  and  the  anticipation  of  a  sleigh- 
ride  alone  with  her,  after  we  had  left  Uncle 
Beamish  with  his  sister,  had  put  me  into 
such  a  glow  that  I  scarcely  knew  it  was  cold 
weather. 

"  You'd  better  be  keerful,  Doctor,"  said 
Uncle  Beamish ;  "  you  don't  want  to  git  rheu 
matism  in  your  jints  on  this  Christmas  morn 
in'.  Here's  this  horse-blanket  that  we  are 
settin'  on  ;  we  don't  need  it  and  you'd  better 
wrap  it  round  you,  after  you  get  in,  to  keep 
your  legs  warm." 

"  Oh,  do !  "  said  Miss  Burroughs,  "  it  may 
look  funny,  but  we  will  not  meet  anybody  so 
early  as  this." 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      69 

"All  right!"  said  I,  "and  now  we  are 
ready  to  start." 

I  slid  back  the  barn-door  and  then  led  the 
horse  outside.  Closing  the  door,  and  mak 
ing  as  little  noise  as  possible  in  doing  it,  I 
got  into  the  sleigh,  finding  plenty  of  room 
to  stand  up  in  front  of  my  companions. 
Now  I  wrapped  the  horse-blanket  about  the 
lower  part  of  my  body,  and,  as  I  had  no  belt 
with  which  to  secure  it,  Miss  Burroughs  kind 
ly  offered  to  fasten  it  round  my  waist  by 
means  of  a  long  pin  which  she  took  from  her 
hat.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  exhila 
ration  that  pervaded  me  as  she  performed 
this  kindly  office.  After  thanking  her  warm 
ly,  I  took  the  reins  and  we  started. 

"It  is  so  lucky,"  whispered  Miss  Bur 
roughs,  "  that  I  happened  to  think  about  the 
bells.  We  don't  make  any  noise  at  all." 

This  was  true  ;  the  slowly  uplifted  hoofs  of 
the  horse  descended  quietly  into  the  soft 
snow,  and  the  sleigh-runners  slipped  along 
without  a  sound. 

"  Drive  straight  for  the  gate,  Doctor,"  whis 
pered  Uncle  Beamish,  "  it  don't  matter  noth- 
in,  about  goin'  over  flower-beds  and  grass- 
plats  in  such  weather." 


70       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

I  followed  liis  advice,  for  no  roadway  could 
be  seen.  But  we  had  gone  but  a  short  dis 
tance  when  the  horse  suddenly  stopped. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Miss  Bur 
roughs,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Is  it  too  deep  for 
him  ?  " 

"  We're  in  a  drift,"  said  Uncle  Beamish. 
"  But  it's  not  too  deep  ;  make  him  go  ahead, 
Doctor." 

I  clicked  gently  and  tapped  the  horse  with 
the  whip,  but  he  did  not  move. 

"  What  a  dreadful  thing,"  whispered  Miss 
Burroughs,  leaning  forward,  "  for  him  to  stop 
so  near  the  house.  Doctor  Glover,  what  does 
this  mean  ?  "  and,  as  she  spoke,  she  half  rose 
behind  me.  "  Where  did  Sir  Rohan  come 
from  ?  " 

"  Who's  he  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Beamish,  quick- 

iy- 

"  That  horse,"  she  answered.  "  That's  my 
aunt's  horse  ;  she  sold  him  a  few  days  ago." 

"  By  George  !  "  ejaculated  Uncle  Beamish, 
unconsciously  raising  his  voice  a  little,  "  Wil 
son  bought  him,  and  his  bringiii'  us  here  is 
as  plain  as  a-b-c.  And  now  he  don't  want  to 
leave  home." 

"But  he  has  got  to  do  it,"  said  I,  jerking 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      71 

the  horse's  head  to  one  side  and  giving  him  a 
cut  with  the  whip. 

"Don't  whip  him,"  whispered  Miss  Bur 
roughs,  "  it  always  makes  him  more  stubborn. 
How  glad  I  am  I  thought  of  the  bells  !  The 
only  way  to  get  him  to  go  is  to  mollify  him." 

"But  how  is  that  to  be  done?  "I  asked, 
anxiously. 

"  You  must  give  him  sugar  and  pat  his 
neck.  If  I  had  some  sugar  and  could  get 
out— 

"  But  you  haven't  it,  and  you  can't  get  out," 
said  Uncle  Beamish.  "  Try  him  again,  Doc 
tor  !  " 

I  jerked  the  reins  impatiently.  "  Go 
along  !  "  said  I,  but  he  did  not  go  along. 

"  Haven't  you  got  somethin'  in  your  medi 
cine-case  you  could  mollify  him  with  ?  "  said 
Uncle  Beamish.  ''Somethin'  sweet  that  he 
might  like  ?  " 

For  an  instant  I  caught  at  this  absurd  sug 
gestion,  and  my  mind  ran  over  the  contents 
of  my  little  bottles.  If  I  had  known  his 
character,  some  sodium  bromide  in  his  morn 
ing  feed  might,  by  this  time,  have  mollified 
his  obstinacy. 

"  If  I  could  be  free  of  this  blanket,"  said  I, 


72       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

fumbling  at  the  pin  behind  me,  "  I  would  get 
out  and  lead  him  into  the  road." 

"  You  could  not  do  it,"  said  Miss  Bur 
roughs.  "  You  might  pull  his  head  off,  but 
he  wouldn't  move  ;  I  have  seen  him  tried." 

At  this  moment  a  window-sash  in  the  sec 
ond  story  of  the  house  was  raised,  and  there, 
not  thirty  feet  from  us,  stood  an  elderly 
female,  wrapped  in  a  gray  shawl,  with  pierc 
ing  eyes  shining  through  great  spectacles. 

"  You  seem  to  be  stuck,"  said  she,  sarcasti 
cally.  "  You  are  worse  stuck  than  the  fork 
was  in  my  kitchen-table." 

We  made  no  answer.  I  do  not  know  how 
Miss  Burroughs  looked  or  felt,  or  what  was 
the  appearance  of  Uncle  Beamish,  but  I  know 
I  must  have  been  very  red  in  the  face.  I 
gave  the  horse  a  powerful  crack  and  shouted 
to  him  to  go  on ;  there  was  no  need  for  low 
speaking  now. 

"  You  needn't  be  cruel  to  dumb  animals," 
said  the  old  lady,  "  and  you  can't  budge  him. 
He  never  did  like  snow,  especially  in  going 
away  from  home.  You  cut  a  powerful  queer 
figure,  young  man,  with  that  horse-blanket 
around  you.  You  don't  look  much  like  a 
practising  physician." 


YOU  CUT   A  POWERFUL  QUEER   FIGURE,  YOUNG   MAN." 


STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      73 

"Miss  Burroughs,"  I  exclaimed,  "please 
take  that  pin  out  of  this  blanket.  If  I  can 
get  at  his  head  I  know  I  can  pull  him  around 
and  make  him  go." 

But  she  did  not  seem  to  hear  me.  "  Aunty," 
she  cried,  "  it's  a  shame  to  stand  there  and 
make  fun  of  us.  We  have  got  a  perfect  right 
to  go  away  if  we  want  to,  and  we  ought  not  to 
be  laughed  at." 

The  old  lady  paid  no  attention  to  this  re 
mark. 

"  And  there's  that  false  doctor,"  she  said  ; 
"  I  wonder  how  he  feels  just  now." 

"  False  doctor !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Burroughs, 
"  I  don't  understand." 

"  Young  lady,"  said  Uncle  Beamish,  "  I'm 
no  false  doctor.  I  intended  to  tell  you  all 
about  it  as  soon  as  I  got  a  chance,  but  I 
haven't  had  one.  And,  old  lady,  I'd  like  you 
to  know  that  I  don't  say  I'm  a  doctor,  but  I 
do  say  I'm  a  nuss,  and  a  good  nuss,  and  you 
can't  deny  it." 

To  this  challenge  the  figure  at  the  window 
made  no  answer. 

"  Catherine,"  said  she,  "  I  can't  stand  here 
and  take  cold,  but  I  just  want  to  know  one 
thing.  Have  you  positively  made  up  your 


74       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

mind  to  marry  tliat  young  doctor  in  the  horse- 
blanket  ?  " 

This  question  fell  like  a  bomb-shell  into 
the  middle  of  the  stationary  sleigh. 

I  had  never  asked  Kitty  to  marry  me.  I 
loved  her  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  and  I 
hoped,  almost  believed,  that  she  loved  me.  It 
had  been  my  intention,  when  we  should  be 
left  together  in  the  sleigh  this  morning,  after 
dropping  Uncle  Beamish  at  his  sister's  house, 
to  ask  her  to  marry  me. 

The  old  woman's  question  pierced  me  as  if 
it  had  been  a  flash  of  lightning,  coming 
through  the  frosty  air  of  a  winter  morning.  I 
dropped  the  useless  reins  and  turned.  Kitty's 
face  was  ablaze ;  she  made  a  movement  as  if 
she  was  about  to  jump  out  of  the  sleigh  and 


11  Oh,  Kitty  !  "  said  I,  bending  down  toward 
her,  "  tell  her  yes,  I  beg,  I  entreat,  I  implore 
you  to  tell  her  yes !  Oh,  Kitty  !  if  you  don't 
say  yes  I  shall  never  know  another  happy 
day." 

For  one  moment  Kitty  looked  up  into  my 
face,  and  then  said  she  : 

"It  is  my  positive  intention  to  marry 
him." 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      75 

With  the  agility  of  a  youth,  Uncle  Beamish 
threw  the  robe  from  him  and  sprang  out  into 
the  deep  snow ;  then  turning  toward  us,  he 
took  off  his  hat. 

"By  George!"  said  he,  "you're  a  pair 
of  trumps.  I  never  did  see  any  human 
bein's  step  up  to  the  mark  more  prompt. 
Madam,"  he  cried,  addressing  the  old  lady, 
"you  ought  to  be  the  proudest  woman  in  this 
county  at  seein'  such  a  thing  as  this  happen 
under  your  window  of  a  Christmas  mornin'. 
And  now  the  best  thing  that  you  can  do  is 
to  invite  us  all  in  to  have  breakfast." 

"You'll  have  to  come  in,"  said  she,  "or 
else  stay  out  there  and  freeze  to  death,  for 
that  horse  isn't  going  to  take  you  away.  And 
if  my  niece  really  intends  to  marry  the  young 
man  and  has  gone  so  far  as  to  start  to  run 
away  with  him — and  with  a  false  doctor — of 
course  I've  got  no  more  to  say  about  it,  and 
you  can  come  in  and  have  breakfast ; "  and 
with  that  she  shut  down  the  window. 

"  That's  talkin',"  said  Uncle  Beamish.  «  Sit 
still,  Doctor,  and  I'll  lead  him  around  to  the 
back  door.  I  guess  he'll  move  quick  enough 
when  you  want  him  to  turn  back." 

Without  the  slightest  objection  Sir  Eohan 


76       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

permitted  himself  to  be  turned  back  and  led 
up  to  the  kitchen  porch. 

"  Now  you  two  sparklin'  angels  get  out," 
said  Uncle  Beamish,  "and  go  in.  I'll  attend 
to  the  horse." 

Jane,  with  a  broad  grin  on  her  face,  opened 
the  kitchen  door. 

"  Merry  Christmas  to  you  both !  "  said  she. 

"  Merry  Christmas  !  "  we  cried,  and  each  of 
us  shook  her  by  the  hand. 

"Go  in  the  sitting-room  and  get  warm," 
said  Jane,  "  She'll  be  down  pretty  soon." 

I  do  not  know  how  long  we  were  together 
in  that  sitting-room.  We  had  thousands  of 
things  to  say,  and  we  said  most  of  them. 
Among  other  things  we  managed  to  get  in 
some  explanations  of  the  occurrences  of  the 
previous  night.  Kitty  told  her  tale  briefly. 
She  and  her  aunt,  to  whom  she  was  making 
a  visit,  and  who  wanted  her  to  make  her  house 
her  home,  had  had  a  quarrel  two  days  before. 
Kitty  was  wild  to  go  to  the  Collingwoods,  and 
the  old  lady,  who,  for  some  reason,  hated  the 
family,  was  determined  she  should  not  go. 
But  Kitty  was  immovable  and  never  gave  up 
until  she  found  that  her  aunt  had  gone  so  far 
as  to  dispose  of  her  horse,  thus  making  it  im- 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      7? 

possible  to  travel  in  such  weather,  there  being 
no  public  conveyances  passing  the  house. 
Kitty  was  an  orphan,  and  had  a  guardian  who 
would  have  come  to  her  aid,  but  she  could  not 
write  to  him  in  time,  and,  in  utter  despair,  she 
went  to  bed.  She  would  not  eat  or  drink,  she 
would  not  speak,  and  she  covered  up  her 
head. 

"After  a  day  and  a  night,"  said  Kitty, 
"  Aunty  got  dreadfully  frightened  and  thought 
something  was  the  matter  with  my  brain  ;  her 
family  are  awfully  anxious  about  their  brains. 
I  knew  she  had  sent  for  the  doctor,  and  I  was 
glad  of  it,  for  I  thought  he  would  help  me. 
I  must  say  I  was  surprised  when  I  first  saw 
that  Mr.  Beamish,  for  I  thought  he  was  Doc 
tor  Morris.  Now  tell  rne  about  your  coming 
here." 

"And  so,"  she  said,  when  I  had  finished, 
"you  had  no  idea  that  you  were  prescrib 
ing  for  me  !  Please  do  tell  me  what  were 
those  medicines  you  sent  up  to  me  and  which 
I  took  like  a  truly  good  girl." 

"  I  didn't  know  it  at  the  time,"  said  I,  "  but 
I  sent  you  sixty  drops  of  the  deepest,  strong 
est  love  in  a  glass  of  water,  and  ten  grains  of 
perfect  adoration." 


78       STAYING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Kitty,  with  a  blush,  and 
at  that  moment  Uncle  Beamish  knocked  at 
the  door. 

"  I  thought  I'd  just  step  in  and  tell  you," 
said  he,  "  that  breakfast  will  be  comin'  along 
in  a  minute.  I  found  they  were  going  to 
have  buckwheat  cakes,  anyway,  and  I  pre 
vailed  on  Jane  to  put  sausages  in  the  bill  of 
fare.  Merry  Christmas  to  you  both !  I 
would  like  to  say  more,  but  here  comes  the 
old  lady  and  Jane." 

The  breakfast  was  a  strange  meal,  but  a 
very  happy  one.  The  old  lady  was  very  dig 
nified  ;  she  made  no  allusion  to  Christmas  or 
to  what  had  happened,  but  talked  to  Uncle 
Beamish  about  people  in  Warburton. 

I  have  a  practical  mind  and,  in  spite  of  the 
present  joy,  I  could  not  help  feeling  a  little 
anxiety  about  what  was  to  be  done  when 
breakfast  was  over ;  but  just  as  we  were  about 
to  rise  from  the  table  we  were  all  startled  by 
a  great  jingle  of  sleigh-bells  outside.  The 
old  lady  arose  and  stepped  to  the  window. 

"  There ! "  said  she,  turning  toward  us. 
"  Here's  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish !  There's  a 
two-horse  sleigh  outside  with  a  man  driving 
and  a  gentleman  in  the  back  seat  who  I  am 


JOHN   MUST   HAVE   DRIVEN   BACKWARD   AND   FORWARD 
FOR   HALF   AN   HOUR. 


STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN      79 

sure  is  Doctor  Morris,  and  lie  has  come  all 
the  way  on  this  bitter  cold  morning  to  see 
the  patient  I  sent  for  him  to  come  to.  Now, 
who  is  going  to  tell  him  he  has  come  on  a 
fool's  errand  ?  " 

"  Fool's  errand !  "  I  cried.  "  Everyone  of 
you  wait  in  here  and  I'll  go  out  and  tell  him." 

When  I  dashed  out  of  doors  and  stood  by 
the  side  of  my  uncle's  sleigh,  he  was  truly  an 
amazed  man. 

"  I  will  get  in,  Uncle,"  said  I,  "and  if  you 
will  let  John  drive  the  horses  slowly  around 
the  yard,  I  will  tell  you  how  I  happen  to  be 
here." 

The  story  was  a  much  longer  one  than  I 
expected  it  to  be,  and  John  must  have  driven 
those  horses  backward  and  forward  for  half 
an  hour. 

"Well,"  said  my  uncle  at  last,  "I  never  saw 
your  Kitty,  but  I  knew  her  father  and  her 
mother,  and  I  will  go  in  and  take  a  look  at 
her.  If  I  like  her,  I  will  take  you  all  on  to 
the  Collingwoods  and  drop  Uncle  Beamish 
at  his  sister's  house." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  young  Doctor," 
said  Uncle  Beamish  at  parting,  "you  ought 


80       STATING  POWER  OF  SIR  ROHAN 

to  buy  that  big  roan  horse ;  lie  has  been  a 
regular  guardian  angel  to  us  this  Christmas." 

"Oh,  that  would  never  do  at  all,"  cried 
Kitty.  "His  patients  would  all  die  before 
he  got  there." 

"  That  is,  if  they  had  anything  the  matter 
with  them,"  added  my  uncle. 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

THE  widow  Ducket  lived  in  a  small  vil 
lage  about  ten  miles  from  the  New  Jer 
sey  sea  coast.  In  this  village  she  was  born, 
here  she  had  married  and  buried  her  hus 
band,  and  here  she  expected  somebody  to 
bury  her,  but  sho  was  in  ^o  hurry  for 
for  sh<3  JiJid  scarcely  vo<iC,MPci  Trnd/jlp, 
She  was  a  tall 


in  her  ooinpobiti'Aii,  an-1*  full  •-•of-iKjfcivily,  both 
muscular  and  mental. 

&he  rose  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
cooked  breakfast,  set  the  tablo,  washed  the 
dishes  when  the  meal  was  over,  milked, 
churned,  swept,  washed,  ironed,  worked  in 
her  little  garden,  attended  to  the  flowers  it 
the  front  yard,  and  in  the  afternoon  knitted 
and  quilted  and  sewed,  ami  after  tea  she 
either  went  to  see  her  neighbors  or  had  them 
come  to  see  her.  A^h^j^Ji-w^-r^vlly  dark- 
she  lighted  the  lamp  in  her  parlor-  ttiul  read 
hour,  and  if  it  happened  tu.bft  one.  .of 


84:  THE  WIDOW'S  CfiUISE 

Miss  Mary  Wilkins'  books  that  she  read  -she 
expressed  doubts  as  to  the  realism  of  tli& 
characters  therein  described. 

Thco-  dcnbtc  rii?  cipi— ^  t"  Dorcas 
Networthv.  who  wa^  a  feiuall,  plui  'i|»  v,  oinan, 
with  f  soleK:ii  ii.je,  >vhx>  ii'a'd  lived  with  the 
widow  for  many  years  and.who  had  become 
her  devoted  disciple.  Whatever  the  widow 
did  that  also  did  Dorcas  not  so  well,  for 
her  heart  told  her  she  couicl  never  expect  to 
do  that,  but  with  a  yearning  anxiety  to  do 
everything  as  well  as  she  could.  She  rose  at 
five  minutes  past  six,  and  in  a  subsidiary 
way  she  helped  to  get  the  breakfast,  to  eat  it, 
to  wash  up  the  dishes,  to  work  in  the  garden, 
to  quilt,  to  sew,  to  visit  and  receive,  and  no 
one  could  have  tried  harder  than  she  did  to 
keep  awake  when  the  widow  read  aloud  in 
the  evening. 

All  these  things  happened  every  day  in  the 
summer  time,  but  in  the  winter  the  widow 
and  Dorcas  cleared  the  snow  from  their  little 
front  path  instead  of  attending  to  the  flowers, 
and  in  the  evening  they  lighted  a  fire  as  well 
as  a  lamp  in  the  parlor. 

Sometimes,  however,  something  different 
happened,  but  this  was  not  often,  only  a  few 


THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE  85 

times  in  the  year.  One  of  the  different  thing? 
occurred  when  Mrs.  Ducket  and  Dorcas  were 
sitting  on  their  little  front  porch  one  summer 
afternoo^  one  on  the  little  bench  on  one  side 
of  the  door  and  the  other  on  the  little  bench 
on  the  other  side  of  the  door,  each  waiting, 
until  she  should  hear  the  clock  strike  five,  to 
prepare  ic  i.  3.ii  it  was  not  yet  a  quarter  to 
five  when  a  one-horse  wagon  containing  four 
men  came  slowly  down  the  street.  Dorcas 
first  saw  the  wagon,  and  she  instantly  stopped 
knitting. 

"  Mercy  on  me !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Who 
ever  those  people  are  they  are  strangers  here 
and  they  don't  know  where  to  stop,  for  they 
first  go  to  one  side  of  the  street  and  then  to 
the  other." 

The  widow  looked  around  sharply. 
"Humph!"  ;siiid  she.  "Those  men  are 
sailor- men.  You  might  see  that  in  a  twink 
ling  of  an  eye.  Sailor-men  always  drive  that 
way  because  that  is  the  way  th^v  sail  ships. 
Thfij"  £rst  tack  in  one  direction  and  then  in 

the   sea  ?  "   re 
marked-  Boreas,  i'or ---abou t  the  -three  hundredth 


86  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 


-  widow-,  for 
fiftieth  time,  -for 
there  had  been  occasions  when.  she.  thought 
Dorcas  put  tiiis  question  inopportunely. 
"-fie  hated  it,  and  lie  was  drowned  in-4% 

,  wliicli  I 


~>..4id~-»a^4^U^  Da  you  xeally  believe 
tere  ?  " 


~  Upon  my  word  I  do  ! '-  said  Dorcasr^uid 
lier  opinion  was  correct. 

The  wagon  drew  up  in  front  of  Mrs.  Duck 
et's  little  white  house,  and  the  two  women 
sat  rigidly,  their  hands  in  their  laps,  staring 
at  the  man  who  drove. 

This  was  an  elderly  personage  with  whitish 
hair,  and  under  his  chin  a  thin  whitish 
beard,  which  waved  in  the  gentle  breeze  and 
gave  Dorcas  the  idea  that  his  head  was  filled 
with  hair  which  was  leaking  out  from  below. 

"Is  this  the  widow  Ducket's?"  inquired 
this  elderly  man,  in  a  strong,  penetrating 
voice. 

"  That's  my  name,' '  said  the  widow,  and  lay 
ing  her  knitting  on  t;ie  bench  beside  her  sh-o 
.vent  to  the  gate.  Dorcas  also  laid  her  knit 
ting  on  the  bench  beside  her  and  went  to  the 
irate. 


TEE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  87 

"  I  was  told,"  said  the  elderly  man,  "  at  a 
house  we  touche*  I  at  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
back,  that  the  widow  Ducket's  was  the  only 
house  in  this  village  where  there  was  any 
chance  of  me  and  my  mates  getting  a  meal. 
We  are  four  sailors  and  we  are  making  from 
the  bay  over  to  Cuppertown,  and  that's  eight 
miles  ahead  yet  and  we  are  all  pretty  sharp 
set  for  something  to  eat." 

"  This  is  the  place,"  said  the  widow,  "  and 
I  do  give  meals  if  there  is  enough  in  the 
house  and  everything  comes  handy." 

"Does  everj-  thing  come  handy  to-day  ?" 
said  he. 

"  It  does,"  said  she,  "  and  you  can  hitch 
your  horse  and  come  in,  Unt..T  Jxaveii't  got 
~aii  v  tii  iii'*  for  him." 


's  all  right,"  said-  the  man*,  "we 
brought  along  stores  for  him,  so  we'll  just 
-make  fast  and  then  come  in." 

The  two  women  hurried  into  the  house  in 
a  state  of  bustling  preparation,  for  the  fur 
nishing  of  this  meal  meant  one  dollar  in  cash. 

The  four  mariners,  all  elderly  men,  de 
scended  from,  the  wagon,  each  one  scrambling 
with  alacrity  over  a  different  wheel. 

AT  box  of  broken  ship-biscuit  was  -bright 


88  THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

out  and  put  on  the  ground  in  front  of  tin 
horse,  who  immediately  set  himself  to  eating 
with  ro 


Tea  was  a  little  late  that  day,  because-there 
were  six  persons  to  provide  for  instead-of 
two,  but  it  was  a  good  meal,  and  after  the 
four  seamen  had  washed  their  hands  and 
faces  at  the  pump  in  the  back  yard  and  load 
wiped  them  on  two  towels  furnished  —fey 
Dorcas,  they  all  came  in  and  sat  down.  Mrs. 
Ducket  seated  herself  at  the  head  of  the 
table  with  the  dignity  proper  to  the  mistress 
of  the  house,  and  Dorcas  seated  herself  at 
the  other  end  with  the  dignity  proper  to  the 
disciple  of  the  mistress.  No  service  was 
necessary,  for  everything  that  was-  to  be 
eaten  or  rK'unk  was  on  the  table. 

When  each  of  the  elderly  mariners  had 
had  as  much  iiread  and  butter,  quickly-baked 
soda  biscuit,  dried  beef,  cold  ham,  cold 
tongue  and  .  preserved  fruit  of  every  variety 
kuQim,  as  his  storage  capacity  would  permit, 
the  mariner  in  command,  Captain  Bird, 
pushed  back  his  chair,  thereupon  the  other 
mariners  pushed  back  their  chairs. 

"Madam,'-  said  O.-TI  >ta,i  11  Bird,  t:  we  hnvo  all 
made  a  good  meal,  -which  didn't  need  to  be 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  89 

no  better  nor  more  of  it,  and  we're  satisfied, 
but  tliat  liorse  out  there  has  not  had  time  to 
rest  himself  enough  to  go  the  eight  miles 
that  lies  ahead  of  us,  so  if  it's  all  the  same 
to  you  .-Pul  this  ge-xl  lady,  we'd  like  to  sit  on 
that  front  porch  awhile  and  smoke  our  pipes. 
I  woo  a  looking-€bt--4kttt-pef^iHwben  I  -came 
iivaiid-  1  bethought  to  myself  what  a  rare 
goad,  jplaca  it  was  to  smoke  a  .pipe  in." 

"There's  pipes  been  smoked  there,"  said 
the-wklow  rising,  "  and  it  can  be  done  again. 
-Inside  the  house  I  don't  allow  tobacco,  but 
on  the  porch  neither  of  us  minds. 

So  the  four  Captains  betook  themselves  to 
the  porch,  two  of  them  seating  themselves  on 
the  little  bench  on  one  side  of  the  door  and 
two  of  them  on  the  little  bench  on  the  other 
side  of  the  door,  and  lighted  their  pipes. 

•  .Shall  we  clear  off  the  table  and  wash  up 
fiie  dishes,"  said  Dorcas,  "  or  wait  until  they 
are  gone  ?  " 

"  AVo  will  wait  until  they  are  gone,"  sakl 
ike-widow,  "  for  now  that  they  are  here  we 
s  well  have  a  bit  of  a  chat  with  them. 


When  a  sailor-man  lights  his  pipe  he  is  gen- 
emlly  willing  to  talk,  but  when  he  is  eatin' 
you  can't  get  a  word  out  of  him." 


90  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

Without  thinking  it  necessary  to  ask  per- 
missiojir-£Q£~tlie4iGuse  belonged  to  her,  the 
widow  Ducket  brought  a  chair  and  put  it  in 
the-JialL-close~.to~  the  -open  front  door,  and 
Dorcas  brought  another  chair  and  seated 
herself  by  the  side  of  the  widow. 

"  Do  all  you  sailor-men  belong  down  there 
at  the  bay  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ducket,  and  thus 
the  conversation  began,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
it  had  reached  a  point  at  which  Captain  Bird 
thought  it  proper  to  say  that  a  great  many 
strange  things  happen  to  seamen  sailing  on 
the  sea  which  lands-people  never  dream  of. 

"  Such  as  anything  in  particular  ?"  asked 
the  widow,  at  which  remark  Dorcas  clasped 
her  hands  in  expectancy. 

At  this  question  each  of  the  mariners  took- 
his  pipe  from  liis  mouth  and  gazed  upon  the 
floor  in  thought. 

"  There's  a  good  many  strange  things  hap 
pened  to  me  and  my  mates  at  sea.  Would 
you  and  that  other  lady  like  to  hear  any  of 
them  ?  "  asked  Captain  Bird. 

"  We  would  like  to  hear  them  if  they  are 
true,"  said  the  widow. 

"  There's  nothing  happened  to  me  and  my 
mates  that  isn't  true,'  said  Captain  Bird, 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  91 

"  and  here  is  something  that  once  happened 
to  me  :  '  I  was  on  a  whaling  v'yage  •  when  a 
big  sperm  whale,  just  a&  *irad~a^aHiery  bull, 


came  at  us,(jiead  ouL  and  struck  the  ship 
uch 


with  such  tremendous  force  that 
his  head  crashed  right  through  her  timbers 
and  he  went  nearly  half  his  length  into  her 
hull.  The  hold  was  mostly  filled  with  empty 
barrels,  for  we  was  just  beginning  our  v'yage, 
and  when  he  had  made  kindling  wood  of 
these,  there  was  room  enough  for  him.'  "We 
all  expected  that  it  wouldn't  take  five  minutes 
for  the  vessel  to  fill  and  go  to  the  bottom, 
and  we  made  ready  to  take  to  the  boats,  but 
it  turned  out  we  didn't  need  to  take  to  no 
boats,  for  as  fast  as  the  water  rushed  into 
the  hold  of  the  ship  that  whale  drank  it  and 
squirted  it  up  through  the  two  blow  holes  in 
the  top  of  his  head,  and  as  there  was  an  open 
hatchway  just  over  his  head  the  water  all 
went  into  the  sea  again,  and  that  whale  kept 
working  day  and  night  pumping  the  water 
out  until  we  beached  the  vessel  on  the  island 
of  Trinidad  —  the  whale  helping  us  wonderful 
on  our  way  over  by  the  powerful  working  of 
his  tail,  which,  being  outside  in  the  water, 
acted  like  a  propeller.  I  don't  believe  any- 


92  THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

thing  stranger  than  that  everJiappened  to  a 
whaling  ship." 

"No,"  said  the  widow,  "I  don't  believe 
anything  ever  did." 

Captain  Bird  now  looked  at  Captain  San 
derson,  and  the  latter  took  his  pipe  out  of  his 
mouth  and  said  that  in  all  his  sailing  around 
the  world  he  had  never  known  anything 
queerer  than  what  happened  to  a  big  steam 
ship  he  chanced  to  be  on,  which  ran  into  an 
island  in  a  fog.  Everybody  on  board  thought 
the  ship  was  wrecked,  but  it  had  twin  screws 
and  was  going  at  such  a  tremendous  speed 
that  it  turned  the  island  entirely  upside  down 
and  sailed  over  it,  and  he  had  heard  tell  that 
even  now  people  sailing  over  the  spot  could 
look  down  into  the  water  and  see  the  roots 
of  the  trees  and  the  cellars  of  the  houses. 

Captain  Sanderson  now  put  his  pipe  back 
into  his  mouth  and  Captain  Burress  took  out 
his  pipo. 

"  I  was  once  in  an  obelisk  ship,"  said  he, 
"  that  used  to  trade  regular  between  Egypt 
and  New  York  carrying  obelisks.  We  had  a 
big  obelisk  on  board.  The  way  they  ship 
obelisks  is  to  make  a  hole  in  the  stern  of  the 
ship  and  run  the  obelisk  in,  p'inted  end  fore- 


THE   WIDOW  DUCKET   SAID  NOTHING. 


94  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

touched  the  bottom  it  just  stood  there,  and  as 
it  was  such  a  big  obelisk  there  was  about  five 
and  a  half  feet  of  it  stuck  out  of  the  water. 
The  man  who  was  knocked  overboard  he  just 
swum  for  that  obelisk  and  he  climbed  up  the 
hiryglyphics.  It  was  a  mighty  fine  obelisk 
and  the  Egyptians  had  cut  their  hiryglyphics 
good  and  deep  so  that  the  man  could  get 
hand  and  foot  hold.  And  when  we  got  to 
him  and  took  him  off  he  was  sitting  high  and 
dry  on  the  p'inted  end  of  that  obelisk.  It  was 
a  great  pity  about  the  obelisk,  for  it  was  a 
good  obelisk,  but  as  I  never  heard  the  com 
pany  tried  to  raise  it  I  expect  it  is  standing 
there  yet." 

Captain  Burress  now  put  his  pipe  back  into 
his  mouth  and  looked  at  Captain  Jenkinson, 
who  removed  his  pipe  and  said  : 

"  The  queerest  thing  that  ever  happened  to 
me  was  about  a  shark.  We  was  off  the  Banks 
and  the  time  of  year  was  July,  and  the  ice  was 
coming  down  and  we  got  in  among  a  lot  of  it. 
Not  far  away,  off  our  weather  bow,  there  was 
a  little  iceberg  which  had  such  a  queerness 
about  it  that  the  Captain  nnd  three  men  went 
in  a  boat  to  look  at  it.  The  ice  was  mighty 
clear  ice  and  you  could  see  almost  through  it, 


TEE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  95 

and  right  inside  of  it,  not  more  than  three 
feet  above  the  water  line,  and  about  two  feet, 
or  maybe  twenty  inches,  inside  the  ice,  was  a 
whopping  big  shark,  about  fourteen  feet  long 
—a  regular  man-eater— frozen  in  there  hard 
and  fast.  '  Bless  my  soul,'  said  the  Captain, 
'  this  is  a  wonderful  curiosity  and  I'm  going 
to  git  him  out.'  Just  then  one  of  the  men 
said  he  saw  that  shark  wink,  but  the  Captain 
wouldn't  believe  him,  for  he  said  that  shark 
was  frozen  stiff  and  hard  and  couldn't  wink. 
You  see  the  Captain  had  his  own  idees  about 
things,  and  he  knew  that  whales  was  warm 
blooded  and  would  freeze  if  they  was  shut  up 
in  ice,  but  he  forgot  that  sharks  was  not 
whales  and  that  they're  cold-blooded  just  like 
toads.  And  there  is  toads  that  has  been  shut 
up  in  rocks  for  thousands  of  years,  and  they 
stayed  alive,  no  matter  how  cold  the  place 
was,  because  they  was  cold-blooded,  and  when 
the  rocks  was  split  out  hopped  the  frog.  But 
as  I  said  before,  the  Captain  forgot  sharks 
was  cold-blooded  and  he  determined  to  git 
that  one  out. 

"  Now  you  both  know,  being  housekeepers, 
that  if  you  take  a  needle  and  drive  it  into  a 
hunk  of  ice  you  can  split  it.  The  Captain 


96  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

had  a  sail-needle  with  him  and  so  he  drove  it 
into  the  iceberg  right  alongside  of  the  shark 
and  split  it.  Now  the  minute  he  did  it  he 
knew  that  the  man  was  right  when  he  said 
he  saw  the  shark  wink,  for  it  flopped  out  of 
that  iceberg  quicker  nor  a  flash  of  light 
ning. 

"  What  a  happy  fish  he  must  have  been !  " 
ejaculated  Dorcas,  forgetful  of  precedent,  so 
great  was  her  emotion. 

"  Yes,"  said  Captain  Jenkinson,  "  it  was  a 
happy  fish  enough,  but  it  wasn't  a  happy 
Captain.  You  see  that  shark  hadn't  had  any 
thing  to  eat,  perhaps  for  a  thousand  years, 
until  the  Captain  came  along  with  his  sail- 
needle." 

"  Surely  you  sailor  men  do  see  strange 
things,"  now  said  the  widow, "  and  the  strang 
est  thing  about  them  is  that  they  are  true." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Dorcas,  "  that  is  the 
most  wonderful  thing." 

"  You  wouldn't  suppose,"  said  the  widow 
Ducket,  glancing  from  one  bench  of  mariners 
to  the  other,  "  that  I  have  a  sea-story  to  tell, 
but  I  have,  and  if  you  like  I  will  tell  it  to 
you." 

Captain  Bird  looked  up  a  little  surprised. 


THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE  97 

"  We  would  like  to  hear  it,  indeed  we  would, 
madam,"  said  lie. 

"  Aye,  aye ! "  said  Captain  Burress,  and  the 
two  other  mariners  nodded. 

"  It  was  a  good  while  ago,"  she  said,  "  when 
I  was  living  on  the  shore  near  the  head  of 
the  bay,  that  my  husband  was  away  and  I 
was  left  alone  in  the  house.  One  mornin' 
my  sister-in-law,  who  lived  on  the  other  side 
of  the  bay,  sent  me  word  by  a  boy  on  a  horse 
that  she  hadn't  any  oil  in  the  house  to  fill  the 
lamp  that  she  always  put  in  the  window  to 
light  her  husband  home,  who  was  a  fisher 
man,  sJTi.fi.  if  I  would  send  her  some  by  the  boy 
she  would  pay  me  back  as  soon  as  they 
bought  oil.  The  boy  said  he  would  stop  on 
his  way  home  and  take  the  oil  to  her,  but  he 
never  did  stop,  or  perhaps  he  never  went 
back.  ;uul  about  five  o'clock  I  began  to  get 
dreadfully  worried,  for  I  knew  if  that  lamp 
wasn't  in  my  sister  in-law's  window  by  dark 
she  might  be  a  widow  before  midnight.  So 
I  said  to  myself,  '  I've  got  to  get  that  oil  to 
her,  no  matter  what  happens  or  how  it's 
done.'  Of  course  I  couldn't  tell  what  might 
happen,  hut  there  was  only  one  way  it  could 
be  done,  and  that  was  for  me  to  get  into  the 


98  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

boat  [hat  was  tied  to  the  post  down  by  the 
vrate'  .iid  take  it  to  her,  for  it  was  too  far 
for  Kic  to  Avalk  around  by  the  head  of  the 
bay.  Now  the  trouble  was  I  didn't  know  no 
more  about  a  boat  and  the  managin'  of  it  than 
any  one  of  you  sailor  men  knows  about  clear 
starchin'.  But  there  wasn't  no  use  of  thinkin' 
what  I  knew  and  what  I  didn't  know,  for  I 
had  to  take  it  to  her  and  there  was  no  way  of 
doin'  it  except  in  that  boat.  So  I  filled  a 
gallon  car) ,  for  I  thought  I  might  as  well  take 
enough  while  I  was  about  it,  and  I  went  down 
to  the  water  and  I  unhitched  that  boat  and  I 
put  the  oil-can  into  her  and  then  I  got  in,  and 
off  I  started,  and  when  I  was  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  shore " 

"  Madam,"  interrupted  Captain  Bird,  "  did 
you  row  or — or  was  there  a  sail  to  the  boat?  " 

The  widow  looked  at  the  questioner  for  a 
moment.  "No,"  said  she,  "I  didn't  row.  I 
forgot  to  bring  the  oars  from  the  house,  but 
it  didn't  matter  for  I  didn't  know  ,how  to  use 
them,  and  if  there  had  been  a  sail  I  couldn't 
have  put  it  up,  4pr  I  didn't  know  how  to  use 
it  either.  I  used  the  rudder  to  make  the  boat 
go.  The  rudder  was  the  only  thing  that  I 
knew  anything  about.  I'd  held  a  rudder  when 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  99 

I  was  a  little  girl  and  I  knew  how  to  work  it. 
So  I  just  took  hold  of  the  handle  of  the  rud 
der  and  turned  it  round  and  round,  and  that 
made  the  boat  go  ahead,  you  know,  and — 

"  Madam !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Bird,  and 
the  other  elderly  mariners  took  their  pipes 
from  their  mouths. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  I  did  it,"  continued 
the  widow  briskly  ;  "  big  steamships  are  made 
to  go  by  a  propeller  turning  round  and  round 
at  their  back  ends,  and  I  made  the  rudder 
work  in  the  same  way,  and  I  got  along  very 
well,  too,  until  suddenly,  when  I  was  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore,  a  most  ter 
rible  and  awful  storm  arose.  There  must  have 
been  a  typhoon  or  a  cyclone  out  at  sea,  for 
the  waves  came  up  the  bay  bigger  than  houses, 
and  when  they  got  to  the  head  of  the  bay  they 
turned  around  and  tried  to  get  out  to  sea 
again  ;  so  in  this  way  they  continually  met, 
and  made  the  most  awful  and  roarin'  pilin'  uy 
of  waves  that  ever  was  known. 

"  My  little  boat  was  pitched  about  as  if  it 
had  been  a  feather  in  a  breeze,  and  when  the 
front  part  of  it  was  cleavin'  itself  down  into 
the  water  the  hind  part  was  stickin'  up  until 
the  rudder  whizzed  around  like  a  patent 


100  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

churn  with  no  milk  in  it.  The  thunder  began 
to  roar  and  the  lightnin'  flashed,  and  three 
sea-gulls,  SQ  nearly  frightened  to  death  that 
they  began  to  turn  up  the  whites  of  their 
eyes,  flew  down  and  sat  on  one  of  the  seats  of 
the  boat,  f orgettin'  in  that  awful  moment  that 
man  was  their  nat'ral  enemy.  I  had  a  couple 
of  biscuits  in  my  pocket,  because  I  had 
thought  I  might  want  a  bite  in  crossing,  and 
I  crumbled  up  one  of  these  and  fed  the  poor 
creatures.  Then  I  began  to  wonder  what?  I 
was  goin'  to  do,  for  things  were  gettin'  awful- 
ler  and  awfuller  every  instant,  and  the  little 
boat  was  a-heavin'  and  a-pitchin'  aud  a-rollin' 
and  h'istin'  itself  up,  lirst  on  one  end  and  then 
on  the  other,  to  such  an  extent  that  if  I  hadn't 
kept  tight  hold  of  the  rudder  handle  I'd 
slipped  off  the  seat  I  was  sittin'  on. 

"  All  of  a  sudden  I  remembered  that  oil  in 
the  can,  but  just  as  I  was  puttin'  my  fingers 
on  the  cork  my  conscience  smote  me.  '  Am 
I  goin'  to  use  this  oil,'  I  said  to  myself,  '  and 
let  my  sister-in-law's  husband  be  wrecked  for 
want  of  it  ?  '  And  then  I  thought  that  he 
wouldn't  want  it  all  that  night  and  perhaps^ 
they  would  buy  oil  the  next  day,  and  so  I 
poured  out  about  a  tumblerful  of  it  on  the 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  101 

water,  and  I  can  just  tell  you  sailor  men  that 
you  never  saw  anything  act  as  prompt  as  that 
did.  In  three  seconds,  or  perhaps  five,  the 
water  all  around  me,  for  the  distance  of  a 
small  front  yard,  was  just  as  flat  as  a  table  and 
as  smooth  as  glass,  and  so  invitin'  in  appear 
ance  that  the  three  gulls  jumped  out  of  the 
boat  and  began  to  swim  about  on  it,  primin' 
their  feathers  and  looking  at  themselves  in 
the  transparent  depths,  though  I  must  say 
that  one  of  them  made  an  awful  face  as  he 
dipped  his  bill  into  the  water  and  tasted  kero 
sene. 

"  Now  I  had  time  to  sit  quiet  in  the  midst 
of  the  placid  space  I  had  made  for  myself  and 
rest  from  working  of  the  rudder.  Truly  it  was 
a  wonderful  and  marvelous  thing  to  look  at. 
The  waves  was  roarin'  and  leapin'  up  all 
around  me  higher  than  the  roof  of  this  house, 
and  sometimes  their  tops  would  reach  over  so 
that  they  nearly  met  and  shut  out  all  view  of 
the  stormy  sky,  which  seemed  as  if  it  was  bein' 
torn  to  pieces  by  blazin'  lightnin',  while  the 
thunder  pealed  so  tremendous  that  it  almost 
drowned  the  roar  of  the  waves.  Not  only 
above  and  all  around  me  was  everything  ter 
rific  and  fearful,  but  even  under  me  it  was  the 


102  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

same,  for  there  was  a  big  crack  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  as  wide  as  my  hand,  and  through 
this  I  could  see  down  into  the  water  beneath, 
and  there  was " 

"  Madam !  "  ejaculated  Captain  Bird,  the 
hand  which  had  been  holding  his  pipe  a  few 
inches  from  his  mouth  now  dropping  to  his 
knee,  and  at  this  motion  the  hands  which  held 
the  pipes  of  the  three  other  mariners  dropped 
to  their  knees. 

"  Of  course  it  sounds  strange,"  continued 
the  widow,  "  but  I  know  that  people  can  see 
down  into  clear  water,  and  the  water  under 
me  was  clear,  and  the  crack  was  wide  enough 
for  me  to  see  through,  and  down  under  me 
was  sharks  and  sword-fishes  and  other  horri 
ble  water  creatures,  which  I  had  never  seen 
before,  all  driven  into  the  bay,  I  haven't  a 
doubt,  by  the  violence  of  the  storm  out  at  sea. 
The  thought  of  my  bein'  upset  and  fallin'  in 
among  those  monsters  made  my  very  blood 
run  cold,  and  involuntary-like  I  began  to  turn 
the  handle  of  the  rudder,  and  in  a  moment  I 
shot  into  a  wall  of  ragin'  sea  water  that  was 
towerin'  around  me.  For  a  second  I  was 
fairly  blinded  and  stunned,  but  I  had  the  cork 
out  of  that  oil-can  in  no  time,  and  very  soon, 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  103 

you'd  scarcely  believe  it  if  I  told  you  how 
soon,  I  had  another  placid  mill-pond  sur- 
roundin'  of  me.  I  sat  there  a-pantin'  and  fan- 
nin'  with  my  straw  hat,  for  you'd  better  be 
lieve  I  was  flustered,  and  then  I  began  to 
think  how  long  it  would  take  me  to  make  a 
line  of  mill-ponds  clean  across  the  head  of 
the  bay  and  how  much  oil  it  would  need  and 
whether  I  had  enough.  So  I  sat  and  calcu 
lated  that  if  a  tumblerful  of  oil  would  make  a 
smooth  place  about  seven  yards  across,  which 
I  should  say  was  the  width  of  the  one  I  was 
in,  which  I  calculated  by  a  measure  of  my  eye 
as  to  how  many  breadths  of  carpet  it  would 
take  to  cover  it,  and  if  the  bay  was  two  miles 
across,  betwixt  our  house  and  my  sister-iii- 
law's,  and  although  I  couldn't  get  the  thing 
down  to  exact  figures,  I  saw  pretty  soon  that 
I  wouldn't  have  oil  enough  to  make  a  level 
cuttin'  through  all  those  mountainous  billows, 
and  besides,  even  if  I  had  enough  to  take  me 
across,  what  would  be  the  good  of  going  if 
there  wasn't  any  oil  left  to  fill  my  sister-in- 
law's  lamp  ? 

"  While  1  was  thinkin'  and  calculatin'  a 
perfectly  dreadful  thing  happened,  which 
made  me  think  if  I  didn't  get  out  of  this 


104  THE   WIDOWS  CRUISE 

pretty  soon  I'd  find  myself  in  a  mighty  risky 
predicament.  The  oil-can,  which  .1  had  for 
gotten  to  put  the  cork  in,  toppled  over,  and 
before  I  could  grab  it  every  drop  of  the  oil 
ran  into  the  hind  part  of  the  boat,  where  it 
was  soaked  up  by  a  lot  of  dry  dust  that  was 
there.  No  wonder  my  heart  sank  when  I  saw 
this.  Glancin'  wildly  around  me,  as  people 
will  do  when  they  are  scared,  I  saw  the 
smooth  place  I  was  in  gettin'  smaller  and 
smaller,  for  the  kerosene  was  evaporatin',  as 
it  will  do  even  oil*  woollen  clothes  if  you  give 
it  time  enough.  The  first  pond  I  had  come 
out  of  seemed  to  be  covered  up,  and  the  great, 
towerin',  throbbin'  precipice  of  sea- water  was 
a-closin'  around  me. 

"  Castin'  down  my  eyes  in  despair  I  hap 
pened  to  look  through  the  crack  in  the  bot 
tom  of  the  boat,  and  oh !  what  a  blessed  re 
lief  it  was,  for  down  there  everything  was 
smooth  and  still,  and  I  could  see  the  sand  on 
the  bottom  as  level  and  hard,  no  doubt,  as  it 
was  on  the  beach.  Suddenly  the  thought 
struck  me  that  that  bottom  would  give  me 
the  only  chance  I  had  of  gettin'  out  of  the 
frightful  fix  I  was  in.  If  I  could  fill  that  oil 
can  with  air  and  then  puttin'  it  under  my  arm 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  105 

and  takin'  a  long  breath,  if  I  could  drop  down 
on  that  smooth  bottom,  I  might  run  along 
toward  shore,  as  far  as  I  could,  and  then, 
when  I  felt  my  breath  was  givin'  out,  I 
could  take  a  pull  at  the  oil-can  and  take  an 
other  run,  and  then  take  another  pull  and 
another  run,  and  perhaps  the  can  would  hold 
air  enough  for  me  until  I  got  near  enough  to 
shore  to  wade  to  dry  land.  To  be  sure  the 
sharks  and  other  monsters  were  down  there, 
but  then  they  must  have  been  awfully  fright 
ened  and  perhaps  they  might  not  remem 
ber  that  man  was  their  nat'ral  enemy.  Any 
way,  I  thought  it  would  be  better  to  try  the 
smooth  water  passage  down  there  than  stay 
and  be  swallowed  up  by  the  ragin'  weaves  on 
top. 

"So  I  blew  the  can  full  of  air  and  corked 
it,  and  then  I  tore  up  some  of  the  boards 
from  the  bottom  of  the  boat  so  as  to  make  a 
hole  big  enough  for  me  to  get  through — and 
you  sailor  men  needn't  wriggle  so  when  I  say 
that,  for  yoii  all  know  a  divin'  bell  hasn't  any 
bottom  at  all  and  the  water  never  comes  in — 
and  so  when  I  got  the  hole  big  enough  I  took 
the  oil  can  under  my  arm  and  wras  just  about 
to  slip  down  through  it  when  I  saw  an  awful 


106  THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

turtle  a-walkin'  through  the  sand  at  the  bot 
tom.  Now,  I  might  trust  sharks  and  sword- 
fishes  and  sea-serpents  to  be  frightened  and 
forget  about  their  nat'ral  enemies,  but  I 
never  could  trust  a  gray  turtle  as  big  as  a 
cart,  with  a  black  neck  a  yard  long,  with  yel 
low  bags  to  its  jaws,  to  forget  anything  or  to 
remember  anything.  I'd  as  lieve  get  into  a 
bath-tub  with  a  live  crab  as  to  go  down  there. 
It  wasn't  of  no  use  even  so  much  as  thinkin* 
of  it,  so  I  gave  up  that  plan  and  didn't  once 
look  through  that  hole  again." 

"  And  what  did  you  do,  madam  ?  "  asked 
Captain  Bird,  who  was  regarding  her-  with  a 
face  of  stone. 

"  I  used  electricity,"  she  said.  "  Now  don't 
start  as  if  you  had  a  shock  of  it.  That's  what 
I  used.  When  I  was  younger  than  I  was 
then  and  sometimes  visited  friends  in  the 
city,  we  often  amused  ourselves  by  rubbing 
our  feet  on  the  carpet  until  we  got  ourselves 
so  full  of  electricity  that  we  could  put  up  our 
fingers  and  light  the  gas.  So  I  said  to  my 
self  that  if  I  could  get  full  of  electricity  for 
the  purpose  of  lightin'  the  gas  I  could  get 
full  of  it  for  other  purposes,  and  so,  without 
losin'  a  moment,  I  set  to  work.  I  stood  up 


THE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE  107 

on  one  of  the  seats,  which  was  dry,  and  I 
rubbed  the  bottoms  of  my  shoes  backward 
and  forward  on  it  with  such  violence  and 
swiftness  that  they  pretty  soon  got  warm  and 
I  began  fillin'  with  electricity,  and  when  I  was 
fully  charged  with  it  from  my  toes  to  the  top 
of  my  head  I  just  sprang  into  the  water  and 
swam  ashore.  Of  course  I  couldn't  sink,  bein' 
full  of  electricity." 

Captain  Bird  heaved  a  long  sigh  and  rose 
to  his  feet,  whereupon  the  other  mariners 
rose  to  their  feet.  "  Madam,"  said  Captain 
Bird,  "  what's  to  pay  for  the  supper  and — 
the  rest  of  the  entertainment  ?  " 

"  The  supper  is  twenty-five  cents  apiece," 
said  the  widow  Ducket,  "  and  everything  else 
is  free,  gratis." 

Whereupon  each  mariner  put  his  hand  into 
his  trousers  pocket,  pulled  out  a  silver  quar 
ter,  and  handed  it  to  the  widow.  Then  with 
four  solemn  "  Good-evenin's"  they  went  out 
to  the  front  gate. 

"  Cast  off,  Captain  Jenkinson,"  said  Cap 
tain  Bird,  "  and  you,  Captain  Burress,  clew 
him  up  for'ard.  You  can  stay  in  the  bow, 
Captain  Sanderson,  and  take  the  sheet  lines. 
I'll  go  aft." 


108  THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE 

All  being  ready,  each  of  the  elderly  mar 
iners  clambered  over  a  wheel,  and  having 
seated  thuuibwiv^s,  they  prepared  to  lay  their 
course  for  Cuppertown. 

But  just  as  they  were  about  to  start  Cap 
tain  Jenkinson  asked  that  they  lay-to  a  bit, 
and  clambering  down  over  his  wheel,  he  re- 
entered  the  front  gate  and  went  up  to  the 
door  of  the  house,  where  the  widow  and  Dor 
cas  were  still  standing. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "  I  just  came  back  to 
ask  what  became  of  your  brother-in-law 
through  his  wife's  not  bein'  able  to  put  no 
light  in  the  window  ?  " 

"  The  storm  drove  him  ashore  on  our  side 
of  the  bay,"  said  she,  "  and  the  next  mornin' 
he  came  up  to  our  house  and  I  told  him  all 
that  had  happened  to  me  ;  and  when  he  took 
our  boat  and  went  home  and  told  that  story 
to  his  wife  she  just  packed  up  and  went  out 
"West,  and  got  divorced  from  him ;  and  it 
served  him  right,  too." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  s/dd  Captain  Jenkin 
son,  and  going  out  of  the  gate  he  clambered 
up  over  the  wheel  and  the  wagon  cleared  for 
Cuppertown. 

the  elderly  mariners  were  goae--4ke 


THE   WIDOW'S  CRUISE  109 


widow  Daek^tj  -still-  standing  4n-4he-«loar, 

t»«a^d  to  Dorcas  : 

"  Think  of  it  !  "  she  said,  "to  tell  all  that 
to  me,  in  my  own  house  !  And  after  I  had 
opened  my  one  jar  of  brandied  peaches-that 
I'd  -been,  keepin'  for  special  company  !  " 

"•In  your  own  house  I  "ejaculated  Dorcas. 
"And  not  one  of  them  brandied  peaches  left!  " 

The  widow  jingled  the  four  quarters  in  her 
hand  before  she  slipped  them  into  her  pocket. 

"-Anyway,  Dorcas,"  she  remarked,  "  I 
y-^-e.  .are~squara 


the  woiidrand  so  let's  go  in  and  wash  the 
—dishes." 

"  Yes,"  said  Dorcas,  "we're  square." 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 


LOVE    BEFORE   BREAKFAST 

I  WAS  still  a  young  man  when  I  came 
into  the  possession  of  an  excellent  estate. 
This  consisted  of  a  large  country  house, 
surrounded  by  lawns,  groves,  and  gardens, 
and  situated  not  far  from  the  flourishing 
little  town  of  Boynton.  Being  an  orphan 
with  no  brothers  or  sisters,  I  set  up  here  a 
bachelor's  hall,  in  which,  for  two  years,  I 
lived  with  great  satisfaction  and  comfort,  im 
proving  my  grounds  and  furnishing  my  house. 
When  I  had  made  all  the  improvements  which 
were  really  needed,  and  feeling  that  I  now 
had  a  most  delightful  home  to  come  back  to, 
I  thought  it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  to 
take  a  trip  to  Europe,  give  my  mind  a  run  in 
fresh  fields  and  pick  up  a  lot  of  bric-a-brac 
and  ideas  for  the  adornment  and  advantage 
of  my  house  and  mind. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  residents  in  my 
neighborhood  who  owned  houses  and  trav- 


114          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

elled  in  the  summer  to  let  their  houses  dur 
ing  their  absence,  and  my  business  agent  and 
myself  agreed  that  this  would  be  an  excel 
lent  thing  for  me  to  do.  If  the  house  were 
let  to  a  suitable  family  it  would  yield  me 
a  considerable  income,  and  the  place  would 
not  present  on  my  return  that  air  of  retro 
gression  and  desolation  which  I  might  ex 
pect  if  it  were  left  unoccupied  and  in  charge 
of  a  caretaker. 

My  agent  assured  me  that  I  would  have  no 
trouble  whatever  in  letting  my  place,  for  it 
offered  many  advantages  and  I  expected  but 
a  reasonable  rent.  I  desired  to  leave  every 
thing  just  as  it  stood,  house,  furniture,  books, 
horses,  cows,  and  poultry,  taking  with  me 
only  my  clothes  and  personal  requisites,  and 
I  desired  tenants  who  would  come  in,  bring 
ing  only  their  clothes  and  personal  requisites, 
which  they  could  quietly  take  away  with 
them  when  their  lease  should  expire  and  I 
should  return  home. 

In  spite,  however,  of  the  assurances  of  the 
agent  it  was  not  easy  to  let  my  place.  The 
house  was  too  large  for  some  people;  too 
small  for  others,  and  while  some  applicants 
had  more  horses  than  I  had  stalls  in  my 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         115 

stable,  others  did  not  want  even  the  horses  I 
would  leave.  I  had  engaged  my  steamer 
passage,  and  the  day  for  my  departure  drew 
near  and  yet  no  suitable  tenants  had  pre 
sented  themselves.  I  had  almost  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  whole  matter  would 
have  to  be  left  in  the  hands  of  my  agent,  for 
I  had  no  intention  whatever  of  giving  up  my 
projected  travels,  when  early  one  afternoon 
some  people  came  to  look  at  the  house. 
Fortunately  I  was  at  home  and  I  gave  myself 
the  pleasure  of  personally  conducting  them 
about  the  premises.  It  was  a  pleasure,  be 
cause  as  soon  as  I  comprehended  the  fact 
that  these  applicants  desired  to  rent  my 
house  I  wished  them  to  have  it. 

The  family  consisted  of  an  elderly  gentle 
man  and  his  wife  with  a  daughter  of  twenty 
or  thereabouts.  This  was  a  family  that  suited 
me  exactly.  Three  in  number,  no  children, 
people  of  intelligence  and  position,  fond  of 
the  country  and  anxious  for  just  such  a  place 
as  I  offered  them — what  could  be  better  ? 

The  more  I  walked  about  and  talked  with 
these  good  people  and  showed  them  my 
possessions  the  more  I  desired  that  the 
young  lady  should  take  my  house.  Of 


116          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

course,  her  pa-rents  were  included  in  this 
wish,  but  it  was  for  her  ears  that  all  my  re 
marks  were  intended,  although  sometimes 
addressed  to  the  others,  and  she  was  the 
tenant  I  labored  to  obtain.  I  say  labored 
advisedly,  because  I  racked  my  brain  to  think 
of  inducements  which  might  bring  them  to  a 
speedy  and  favorable  decision. 

Apart  from  the  obvious  advantages  of  the 
arrangement  it  would  be  a  positive  delight  to 
me  during  my  summer  wanderings  in  Europe 
to  think  that  that  beautiful  girl  would  be 
strolling  through  my  grounds,  enjoying  my 
flowers  and  sitting  with  her  book  in  the 
shady  nooks  I  had  made  so  pleasant,  lying 
in  my  hammocks,  spending  her  evening 
hours  in  my  study  reading  my  books,  writ 
ing  at  my  desk  and  perhaps  musing  in  my 
easy-chair.  Before  these  applicants  appeared 
it  had  sometimes  pained  me  to  imagine 
strangers  in  my  home,  but  no  such  thought 
crossed  my  mind  in  regard  to  this  young 
lady,  who,  if  charming  in  the  house  and  on 
the  lawn,  grew  positively  entrancing  when 
she  saw  my  Jersey  cows  and  my  two  horses, 
regarding  them  with  an  admiration  which 
even  surpassed  my  own. 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST          117 

Long  before  we  had  completed  the  tour  of 
inspection  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  this 
young  lady  should  come  to  live  in  my  house. 
If  obstacles  should  show  themselves  they 
should  be  removed.  I  would  tear  down,  I 
would  build,  I  would  paper  and  paint,  I 
would  put  in  all  sorts  of  electric  bells ;  I 
would  reduce  the  rent  until  it  suited  their 
notions  exactly ;  I  would  have  my  horses' 
tails  banged  if  she  liked  that  kind  of  tails 
better  than  long  ones  ;  I  would  do  anything 
to  make  them  definitely  decide  to  take  the 
place  before  they  left  me.  I  trembled  to 
think  of  her  going  elsewhere  and  giving 
other  householders  a  chance  to  tempt  her. 
She  had  looked  at  a  good  many  country 
houses,  but  it  was  quite  plain  that  none  of 
them  had  pleased  her  so  well  as  mine. 

I  left  them  in  my  library  to  talk  the  matter 
over  by  themselves,  and  in  less  than  ten  min 
utes  the  young  lady  herself  came  out  on  the 
lawn  to  tell  me  that  her  father  and  mother 
had  decided  to  take  the  place  and  would  like 
to  speak  with  me. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  she  said  as  we  went  in ; 
"  I  am  sure  I  shall  enjoy  every  hour  of  our 
stay  here.  It  is  so  different  from  anything 
we  have  yet  seen." 


118          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

When  everything  had  been  settled  I  wanted 
to  take  them  again  over  the  place  and  point 
out  a  lot  of  things  I  had  omitted.  I  particu 
larly  wanted  to  show  them  some  lovely  walks 
in  the  woods,  but  there  was  no  time,  for  they 
had  to  catch  a  train. 

Her  name  was  Yincent — Cora  Yincent,  as 
I  discovered  from  her  mother's  remarks. 

As  soon  as  they  departed  I  had  my  mare 
saddled  and  rode  into  town  to  see  my  agent. 
I  wrent  into  his  office  exultant. 

"  I've  let  my  house,"  I  said,  "  and  I  want 
you  to  make  out  the  lease  and  have  every 
thing  fixed  and  settled  as  soon  as  possible. 
This  is  the  address  of  my  tenants." 

The  agent  asked  me  a  good  many  ques 
tions,  being  particularly  anxious  to  know 
what  rent  had  been  agreed  upon. 

"  Heavens !  "  he  exclaimed,  when  I  men 
tioned  the  sum,  "that  is  ever  so  much  less 
than  what  I  told  you  you  could  get.  I  am 
in  communication  now  with  a  party  whom  I 
know  would  pay  you  considerably  more  than 
these  people.  Have  you  definitely  settled 
with  them?  Perhaps  it  is  not  too  late  to 
withdraw." 

"Withdraw!"   I  cried.      "Never!     They 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST          119 

are  the  only  tenants  I  want.  I  was  deter 
mined  to  get  them  and  I  think  I  must  have 
lowered  the  rent  four  or  five  times  in  the 
course  of  the  afternoon.  I  took  a  big  slice 
out  of  it  before  I  mentioned  the  sum  at  all. 
You  see,"  said  I,  very  impressively,  "  these 
Vincents  exactly  suit  me,"  and  then  I  went 
on  to  state  fully  the  advantages  of  the  ar 
rangement,  omitting,  however,  any  references 
to  my  visions  of  Miss  Vincent  swinging  in 
my  hammocks  or  musing  in  my  study-chair. 

It  was  now  May  15th  and  my  steamer 
would  sail  on  the  21st.  The  intervening 
days  I  employed,  not  in  preparing  for  my 
travels,  but  in  making  every  possible  arrange 
ment  for  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  my 
incoming  tenants.  The  Vincents  did  not 
wish  to  take  possession  until  June  1st,  and  I 
was  sorry  they  had  not  applied  before  I  had 
engaged  my  passage,  for  in  that  case  I  would 
have  selected  a  later  date.  A  very  good 
steamer  sailed  on  June  3d  and  it  would  have 
suited  me  just  as  well. 

Happening  to  be  in  New  York  one  day  I 
went  to  the  Vincents'  city  residence  to  con 
sult  with  them  in  regard  to  some  awnings 
which  I  proposed  putting  up  at  the  back  of 


120          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

the  house.  I  found  no  one  at  home  but  the 
old  gentleman,  and  it  made  no  difference 
to  him  whether  the  awnings  were  black  and 
brown  or  red  and  yellow.  I  cordially  in 
vited  him  to  come  out  before  I  left  and  bring 
his  family  that  they  might  look  about  the 
place  to  see  if  there  was  anything  they  would 
like  to  have  done  which  had  not  already  been 
attended  to.  It  was  so  much  better,  I  told 
him,  to  talk  over  these  matters  personally 
with  the  owner  than  with  an  agent  in  his  ab 
sence.  Agents  were  often  very  unwilling  to 
make  changes.  Mr.  Vincent  was  a  very  quiet 
and  exceedingly  pleasant  elderly  gentleman, 
and  thanked  me  very  much  for  my  invitation, 
but  said  he  did  not  see  how  he  could  find  the 
time  to  get  out  to  my  house  before  I  sailed. 
I  did  not  like  to  say  that  it  was  not  at  all 
necessary  for  him  to  neglect  his  affairs  in  or 
der  to  accompany  his  family  to  my  place, 
but  I  assured  him  that  if  any  of  them  wished 
to  go  out  at  any  time  before  they  took  pos 
session  they  must  feel  at  perfect  liberty  to 
do  so. 

I  mentioned  this  matter  to  my  agent,  sug 
gesting  that  if  he  happened  to  be  in  New 
York  he  might  call  on  the  Yincents  and  re- 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST    121 

peat  my  invitation.  It  was  not  likely  that 
the  old  gentleman  would  remember  to  men 
tion  it  to  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  it  was 
really  important  that  everything  should  be 
made  satisfactory  before  I  left. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  smiling  a  little 
grimly,  "that  the  Vincents  had  better  be 
kept  away  from  your  house  until  you  have 
gone.  If  you  do  anything  more  to  it  you 
may  find  out  that  it  would  have  been  more 
profitable  to  have  shut  it  up  while  you  are 
away." 

He  did  call,  however,  partly  because  I 
wished  him  to  and  partly  because  he  was  cu 
rious  to  see  the  people  I  was  so  anxious  to 
install  in  my  home,  and  to  whom  he  was  to 
be  my  legal  representative.  He  reported 
the  next  day  that  he  had  found  no  one  at 
home  but  Miss  Vincent,  and  that  she  had 
said  that  she  and  her  mother  would  be  very 
glad  to  come  out  the  next  week  and  go  over 
the  place  before  they  took  possession. 

"  Next  week !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  I  shall  be 
gone  then !  " 

"  But  I  shall  be  here,"  said  Mr.  Barker 
"and  I'll  show  them  about  and  take  their 
suggestions." 


122          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

This  did  not  suit  me  at  all.  It  annoyed 
me  very  much  to  think  of  Barker  showing 
Miss  Vincent  about  my  place.  He  was  a 
good  looking  young  man  and  not  at  all  back 
ward  in  his  manners. 

"  After  all,"  said  I,  "  I  suppose  that  every 
thing  that  ought  to  be  done  has  been  done. 
I  hope  you  told  her  that." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  he :  "  that  would 
have  been  running  dead  against  your  orders. 
Besides,  it's  my  business  to  show  people 
about  places.  I  don't  mind  it." 

This  gave  me  an  unpleasant  and  uneasy 
feeling.  I  wondered  if  Mr.  Barker  were  the 
agent  I  ought  to  have,  and  if  a  middle-aged 
man  with  a  family  and  more  experience 
might  not  be  better  able  to  manage  my  af 
fairs. 

"  Barker,"  said  I,  a  little  later,  "  there  will 
be  no  use  of  your  going  every  month  to  the 
Vincents  to  collect  their  rent.  I  shall  write 
to  Mr.  Vincent  to  pay  as  he  pleases.  He  can 
send  a  check  monthly  or  at  the  end  of  the 
season,  as  it  may  be  convenient.  He  is  per 
fectly  responsible  and  I  would  much  prefer 
to  have  the  money  in  a  lump  when  I  come 
back." 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         123 

Barker  grinned.  "  All  right,"  said  he, 
"  but  that's  not  the  way  to  do  business,  you 
know." 

I  may  have  been  mistaken  but  I  fancied 
that  I  saw  in  my  agent's  face  an  expression 
which  indicated  that  he  intended  to  call  on 
the  first  day  of  each  month  on  the  pretext  of 
telling  Vincent  that  it  was  not  necessary  to 
pay  the  rent  at  any  particular  time,  and  that 
he  also  proposed  to  make  many  other  inter 
vening  visits  to  inquire  if  repairs  were 
needed.  This  might  have  been  a  good  deal 
to  get  out  of  his  expression  but  I  think  I 
could  have  got  more  if  I  had  thought  longer. 

On  the  day  before  that  on  which  I  was 
to  sail,  my  mind  was  in  such  a  disturbed 
condition  that  I  could  not  attend  to  my 
packing  or  anything  else.  It  almost  en 
raged  me  to  think  that  I  was  deliberately 
leaving  the  country  ten  days  before  my  ten 
ants  would  come  to  my  house.  There  was 
no  reason  w,hy  I  should  do  this ;  there  were 
many  reasons  why  I  should  not ;  there  was 
Barker.  I  was  now  of  the  opinion  that  he 
would  personally  superintend  the  removal  of 
the  Yincents  and  their  establishment  to  my 
home.  I  remembered  that  the  only  sugges- 


124          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

tion  he  had  made  about  the  improvement  of 
the  place  had  been  the  construction  of  a  ten 
nis-court.  I  knew  that  he  was  a  champion 
player.  Confound  it !  What  a  dreadful  mis 
take  I  had  made  in  selecting  such  a  man  for 
my  house  agent.  With  my  mind's  eye  I 
could  already  see  Miss  Vincent  and  Barker 
selecting  a  spot  for  tennis  and  planning  the 
arrangements  of  the  court. 

I  took  the  first  train  to  New  York  and  went 
directly  to  the  steamboat  office.  It  is  aston 
ishing  how  many  obstacles  can  be  removed 
from  a  man's  path  if  he  will  make  up  his 
mind  to  give  them  a  good  kick.  I  found  that 
my  steamer  was  crowded.  The  applications 
for  passage  exceeded  the  accommodations, 
and  the  agent  was  delighted  to  transfer  me  to 
the  steamer  that  sailed  on  June  3d.  I  went 
home  exultant.  Barker  drove  over  in  the 
evening  to  take  his  last  instructions,  and  a 
blank  look  came  over  his  face  when  I  told 
him  that  business  had  delayed  my  departure 
and  that  I  should  not  sail  the  next  day.  If  I 
had  told  him  that  part  of  that  business  was 
the  laying  out  of  a  tennis-court  he  might  have 
looked  blanker. 

Of  course  the  date  of  my  departure  did  not 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         125 

concern  the  Vincents,  provided  the  house  was 
vacated  by  June  1,  and  I  did  not  inform  them 
of  the  changes  in  my  plans,  but  when  the 
mother  and  daughter  came  out  the  next  week 
they  were  much  surprised  to  find  me  waiting 
to  receive  them  instead  of  Barker.  I  hope 
that  they  were  also  pleased,  and  I  am  sure 
that  they  had  every  reason  to  be  so.  Mrs. 
Vincent,  having  discovered  that  I  was  a  most 
complacent  landlord,  accommodated  herself 
easily  to  my  disposition  and  made  a  number 
of  minor  requirements,  all  of  which  I  granted 
without  the  slightest  hesitation.  I  was  de 
lighted  at  last  to  put  her  into  the  charge  of 
my  housekeeper,  and  when  the  two  had  be 
taken  themselves  to  the  bed-rooms  I  invited 
Miss  Vincent  to  come  out  with  me  to  select  a 
spot  for  a  tennis-court.  The  invitation  was 
accepted  with  alacrity,  for  tennis,  she  declared, 
was  a  passion  with  her. 

The  selection  of  that  tennis-court  took 
nearly  an  hour,  for  there  were  several  good 
places  for  one  and  it  was  hard  to  make  a  se 
lection,  besides  I  could  not  lose  the  opportu 
nity  of  taking  Miss  Vincent  into  the  woods 
and  showing  her  the  walks  I  had  made  and 
the  rustic  seats  I  had  placed  in  pleasant 


126    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

nooks.  Of  course  she  would  liave  discovered 
these,  but  it  was  a  great  deal  better  for  her  to 
know  all  about  them  before  she  came.  At 
last  Mrs.  Vincent  sent  a  maid  to  tell  her 
daughter  that  it  was  time  to  go  for  the  train, 
and  the  court  had  not  been  definitely  planned. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  Miss  Vincent's 
house  with  a  plan  of  the  grounds,  and  she 
and  I  talked  over  it  until  the  matter  was 
settled.  It  was  necessary  to  be  prompt 
about  this,  as  I  explained,  as  there  would  be 
a  great  deal  of  leveling  and  rolling  to  be 
done. 

I  also  had  a  talk  with  the  old  gentleman 
about  books.  There  were  several  large  boxes 
of  my  books  in  New  York  which  I  had  never 
sent  out  to  my  country  house.  Many  of  these 
I  thought  might  be  interesting  to  him,  and  I 
offered  to  have  them  taken  out  and  left  at  his 
disposal.  When  he  heard  the  titles  of  some 
of  the  books  in  the  collection  he  was  much 
interested,  but  insisted  that  before  he  made 
use  of  them  they  should  be  catalogued,  as 
were  the  rest  of  my  effects.  I  hesitated  a 
moment,  wondering  if  I  could  induce  Barker 
to  come  to  New  York  and  catalogue  four  big 
boxes  of  books,  when,  to  ray  surprise,  Miss 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         127 

Vincent  incidentally  remarked  that  if  they 
were  in  any  place  where  she  could  get  at  them 
she  would  be  pleased  to  help  catalogue  them ; 
that  sort  of  thing  was  a  great  pleasure  to  her. 
Instantly  I  proposed  that  I  should  send  the 
books  to  the  Vincent  house  ;  that  they  should 
there  be  taken  out  so  that  Mr.  Vincent  could 
select  those  he  might  care  to  read  during  the 
summer ;  that  I  would  make  a  list  of  these, 
and  if  Miss  Vincent  would  assist  me  I  would 
be  grateful  for  the  kindness,  and  those  that 
were  not  desired  could  be  returned  to  the 
store-house. 

What  a  grand  idea  was  this  !  I  had  been 
internally  groaning  because  I  could  think  of 
no  possible  pretence  for  further  interviews 
with  Miss  Vincent,  and  here  was  something 
better  than  I  could  have  imagined.  Her 
father  declared  that  he  could  not  put  me  to 
so  much  trouble,  but  I  would  listen  to  none  of 
his  words,  and  the  next  morning  my  books 
were  spread  over  his  library  floor. 

The  selection  and  cataloguing  of  the  vol 
umes  desired  occupied  the  mornings  of  three 
days.  The  old  gentleman's  part  was  soon 
done,  but  there  were  many  things  in  the 
books  which  were  far  more  interesting  to  me 


128    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

than  their  titles,  and  to  which  I  desired  to 
draw  Miss  Vincent's  attention.  All  this 
greatly  protracted  our  labors.  She  was  not 
only  a  beautiful  girl,  but  her  intelligence  and 
intellectual  grasp  were  wonderful.  I  could 
not  help  telling  her  what  a  great  pleasure  it 
would  be  to  me  to  think,  while  wandering  in 
foreign  lands,  that  such  an  appreciative  fam 
ily  would  be  enjoying  my  books  and  my  place. 

"You  are  so  fond  of  your  house  and  every 
thing  you  have,"  said  she,  "  that  we  shall  al 
most  feel  as  if  we  were  depriving  you  of  your 
rights.  But  I  suppose  that  Italian  lakes  and 
the  Alps  will  make  you  forget  for  a  time  even 
your  beautiful  home." 

"  Not  if  you  are  in  it,"  I  longed  to  say,  but 
I  restrained  myself.  I  did  not  believe  that  it 
were  possible  for  me  to  be  more  in  love  with 
that  girl  than  I  was  at  that  moment,  but,  of 
course,  it  would  be  the  rankest  stupidity  to 
tell  her  so.  To  her  I  was  simply  her  father's 
landlord. 

I  went  to  that  house  the  next  day  to  see 
that  the  boxes  were  properly  repacked,  and  I 
actually  went  the  next  day  to  see  if  the  right 
boxes  had  gone  into  the  country,  and  the 
others  back  to  the  storehouse.  The  first  day 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST          129 

I  saw  only  the  father.  The  second  day  it 
was  the  mother  who  assured  me  that  every 
thing  had  been  properly  attended  to.  I  be 
gan  to  feel  that  if  I  did  not  wish  a  de 
cided  rebuff  I  would  better  not  make  any 
more  pretences  of  business  at  the  Vincent 
house. 

There  were  affairs  of  my  own  which  should 
have  been  attended  to  and  I  ought  to  have 
gone  home  and  attended  to  them,  but  I  could 
not  bear  to  do  so.  There  was  no  reason  to 
suppose  she  would  go  out  there  before  the 
first  of  June. 

Thinking  over  the  matter  many  times  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  if  I  could  see 
her  once  more  I  would  be  satisfied  Then  I 
would  go  away  and  carry  her  image  with  me 
into  every  art  gallery,  over  every  glacier  and 
under  every  lovely  sky  that  I  should  enjoy 
abroad,  hoping  all  the  time  that,  taking  my 
place,  as  it  were,  in  my  home,  and  making 
my  possessions,  in  a  measure,  her  own,  she 
would  indirectly  become  so  well  acquainted 
with  me  that  when  I  returned  I  might  speak 
to  her  without  shocking  her. 

To  obtain  this  final  interview  there  was 
but  one  way.  I  had  left  my  house  on  Satur- 


130    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

day,  the  Yincents  would  come  on  the  follow 
ing  Monday  and  I  would  sail  on  Wednesday. 
I  would  go  on  Tuesday  to  inquire  if  they 
found  everything  to  their  satisfaction.  This 
would  be  a  very  proper  attention  from  a 
landlord  about  to  leave  the  country. 

When  I  reached  Boynton  I  determined  to 
walk  to  my  house,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  en 
cumber  myself  with,  a  hired  vehicle.  I  might 
be  asked  to  stay  to  luncheon.  A  very  strange 
feeling  came  over  me  as  I  entered  my  grounds. 
They  were  not  mine.  For  the  time  being 
they  belonged  to  somebody  else.  I  was 
merely  a  visitor  or  a  trespasser  if  the  Vin 
cents  thought  proper  so  to  consider  me.  If 
they  did  not  like  people  to  walk  on  the 
grass  I  had  no  right  to  do  it. 

None  of  my  servants  had  been  left  on  the 
place,  and  the  maid  who  came  to  the  door 
informed  me  that  Mr.  Yincent  had  gone  to 
New  York  that  morning  and  that  Mrs.  Yin- 
cent  and  her  daughter  were  out  driving.  I 
ventured  to  ask  if  she  thought  they  would 
soon  return,  and  she  answered  that  she  did 
not  think  they  would,  as  they  had  gone  to 
Eock  Lake  which,  from  the  way  they  talked 
about  it,  must  be  a  long  way  off. 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         131 

Bock  Lake !  When  I  had  driven  over 
there  with  my  friends  we  had  taken  luncheon 
at  the  inn  and  returned  in  the  afternoon. 
And  what  did  they  know  of  Rock  Lake  ? 
Who  had  told  them  of  it?  That  officious 
Barker,  of  course. 

"  Will  you  leave  a  message,  sir?  "  said  the 
maid,  who,  of  course,  did  not  know  me. 

"  No,"  said  I,  and  as  I  still  stood  gazing  at 
the  piazza  floor  she  remarked  that  if  I  wished 
to  call  again  she  would  go  out  and  speak  to 
the  coachman  and  ask  him  if  anything  had 
been  said  to  him  about  the  time  of  the  party's 
return. 

Worse  and  worse !  Their  coachman  had 
not  driven  them  !  Some  one  who  knew  the 
country  had  been  their  companion.  They 
were  not  acquainted  in  the  neighborhood 
and  there  could  not  be  a  shadow  of  a  doubt 
that  it  was  that  obtrusive  Barker  who  had 
indecently  thrust  himself  upon  them  on  the 
very  next  day  after  their  arrival,  and  had 
thus  snatched  from  me  that  last  interview 
upon  which  I  had  counted  so  earnestly. 

I  had  no  right  to  ask  any  more  questions  ; 
I  left  no  message  nor  any  name,  and  I  had 
no  excuse  for  saying  I  would  call  again. 


132    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

I  got  back  to  my  hotel  without  having  met 
any  one  whom  I  knew,  and  that  night  I  re 
ceived  a  note  from  Barker,  stating  that  he 
had  fully  intended  coming  to  the  steamer  to 
see  me  off,  but  that  an  engagement  would 
prevent  him.  He  sent,  however,  his  best 
good  wishes  for  my  safe  passage  and  assured 
me  that  he  would  keep  me  fully  informed  of 
the  state  of  my  affairs  on  this  side. 

"  Engagement !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Is  he 
going  to  drive  with  her  again  to-morrow  ?  " 

My  steamer  sailed  at  two  o'clock  the  next 
day,  and  after  an  early  breakfast  I  went  to 
the  company's  office  to  see  if  I  could  dispose 
of  my  ticket.  It  had  become  impossible,  I 
told  the  agent,  for  me  to  leave  America  at 
present.  He  said  it  was  a  very  late  hour  to 
sell  my  ticket,  but  that  he  would  do  what  he 
could,  and  if  an  applicant  turned  up  he  would 
give  him  my  room  and  refund  the  money. 
He  wanted  me  to  change  to  another  date  but 
I  declined  to  do  this.  I  was  not  able  to  say 
when  I  should  sail. 

I  now  had  no  plan  of  action.  All  I  knew 
was  that  I  could  not  leave  America  without 
finding  out  something  definite  about  this 
Barker  business.  That  is  to  say,  if  it  should 


—  •-)- 


AT   THE   STEAMSHIP  OFFICE. 


• 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         133 

be  complained  to  me  that  instead  of  attend 
ing  to  my  business,  sending  a  carpenter  to 
make  repairs,  if  such  were  necessary,  or  going 
personally  to  the  plumber  to  make  sure  that 
that  erratic  personage  would  give  his  atten 
tion  to  any  pipes  in  regard  to  which  Mr. 
Vincent  might  have  written,  Barker  should 
mingle  in  sociable  relations  with  my  tenants 
and  drive  or  play  tennis  with  the  young  lady 
of  the  house,  then  would  I  immediately  have 
done  with  him.  I  would  withdraw  my  busi 
ness  from  his  hands  and  place  it  in  those  of 
old  Mr.  Poindexter.  More  than  that,  it  might 
be  my  duty  to  warn  Miss  Vincent's  parents 
against  Barker.  I  did  not  doubt  that  he  was 
a  very  good  house  and  land  agent,  but  in  se 
lecting  him  as  such  I  had  no  idea  of  intro 
ducing  him  to  the  Vincents  in  a  social  way. 
In  fact,  the  more  I  thought  about  it  the  more 
I  became  convinced  that  if  ever  I  mentioned 
Barker  to  my  tenants  it  would  be  to  warn 
them  against  him.  From  certain  points  of 
view  he  was  actually  a  dangerous  man. 

This,  however,  I  would  not  do  until  I 
found  my  agent  was  really  culpable.  To 
discover  what  Barker  had  done,  what  he  was 
doing  and  what  he  intended  to  do,  was  now 


134    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

my  only  business  in  life.  Until  I  had  satis 
fied  myself  on  these  points  I  could  not  think 
of  starting  out  upon  my  travels. 

Now  that  I  had  determined  that  I  would 
not  start  for  Europe  until  I  had  satisfied 
myself  that  Mr.  Barker  was  contenting  him 
self  with  attending  to  my  business,  and  not 
endeavoring  to  force  himself  into  social  rela 
tions  with  my  tenants,  I  was  anxious  that 
the  postponement  of  my  journey  should  be 
unknown  to  my  friends  and  acquaintances, 
and  I  was,  therefore,  very  glad  to  see  in 
a  newspaper,  published  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  of  my  intended  departure,  my 
name  among  the  list  of  passengers  who  had 
sailed  upon  the  Mnemonic.  For  the  first 
time  I  commended  the  super- enterprise  of  a 
reporter  who  gave  more  attention  to  the 
timeliness  of  his  news  than  to  its  accuracy. 

I  was  stopping  at  a  New  York  hotel,  but 
I  did  not  wish  to  stay  there.  Until  I  felt  my 
self  ready  to  start  on  my  travels  the  neigh 
borhood  of  Boynton  would  suit  me  better 
than  anywhere  else.  I  did  not  wish  to  go  to 
the  town  itself,  for  Barker  lived  there  and  I 
knew  many  of  the  townspeople,  but  there 
were  farm-houses,  not  far  away,  where  I 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         135 

might  spend  a  week.  After  considering  the 
matter  I  thought  of  something  that  might 
suit  me.  About  three  miles  from  my  house, 
on  an  unfrequented  road,  was  a  mill  which 
stood  at  the  end  of  an  extensive  sheet  of 
water,  in  reality  a  mill  pond,  but  commonly 
called  a  lake.  The  miller,  an  old  man,  had 
recently  died,  and  his  house  near  by  was  oc 
cupied  by  a  newcomer  whom  I  had  never 
seen.  If  I  could  get  accommodations  there  it 
would  suit  me  exactly.  I  left  the  train  two 
stations  below  Boynton  and  walked  over  to 
the  mill. 

The  country-folk  in  my  neighborhood  are 
always  pleased  to  take  summer  boarders  if 
they  can  get  them,  and  the  miller  and  his 
wife  were  glad  to  give  me  a  room,  not  imag 
ining  that  I  was  the  owner  of  a  good  house 
not  far  away.  The  place  suited  my  require 
ments  very  well.  It  was  near  her  and  I  might 
live  here  for  a  time  unnoticed,  but  what  I 
was  going  to  do  with  my  opportunity  I  did 
not  know.  Several  times  the  conviction 
forced  itself  upon  me  that  I  should  get  up  at 
once  and  go  to  Europe  by  the  first  steamer, 
and  so  show  myself  that  I  was  a  man  of 
sense. 


136    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

This  conviction  was  banished  on  the  sec 
ond  afternoon  of  my  stay  at  the  mill.  I  was 
sitting  under  a  tree  in  the  orchard  near  the 
house,  thinking  and  smoking  my  pipe,  when 
along  the  road  which  ran  by  the  side  of  the 
lake,  came  Mr.  Yincent  on  my  black  horse 
General  and  his  daughter  on  my  mare  Sap 
pho.  Instinctively  I  pulled  my  straw  hat 
over  my  eyes,  but  this  precaution  was  not 
necessary.  They  were  looking  at  the  beauti 
ful  lake  with  its  hills  and  overhanging  trees, 
and  saw  me  not ! 

When  the  very  tip  of  Sappho's  tail  had 
melted  into  the  foliage  of  the  road  I  arose  to 
my  feet  and  took  a  deep  breath  of  the  happy 
air.  I  had  seen  her  and  it  was  with  her 
father  she  was  riding. 

I  do  not  believe  I  slept  a  minute  that  night 
through  thinking  of  her  and  feeling  glad  that 
I  was  near  her,  and  that  she  had  been  riding 
with  her  father. 

"When  the  early  dawn  began  to  break  an 
idea  brighter  than  the  dawn  broke  upon  me : 
I  would  get  up  and  go  nearer  to  her.  It  is 
amazing  how  much  we  lose  by  not  getting  up 
early  on  the  long  summer  days.  How  beau 
tiful  the  morning  might  be  on  this  earth  I 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         137 

never  knew  until  I  found  myself  wandering 
by  the  edge  of  my  woods  and  over  my  lawn 
with  the  tender  gray-blue  sky  above  me  and 
all  the  freshness  of  the  grass  and  flowers  and 
trees  about  me,  the  birds  singing  among  the 
branches  and  she  sleeping  sweetly  somewhere 
within  that  house  with  its  softly-defined 
lights  and  shadows.  How  I  wished  I  knew 
what  room  she  occupied ! 

The  beauties  and  joys  of  that  hour  were 
lost  to  every  person  on  the  place,  who  were 
all,  no  doubt,  in  their  soundest  sleep.  I  did 
not  even  see  a  dog.  Quietly  and  stealthily 
stepping  from  bush  to  hedge  I  went  around 
the  house,  and  as  I  drew  near  the  barn  I  fan 
cied  I  could  hear  from  a  little  room  adjoin 
ing  it  the  snores  of  the  coachman.  The  lazy 
rascal  would  probably  not  awaken  for  two  or 
three  hours  yet,  but  I  would  run  no  risks  and 
in  half  an  hour  I  had  sped  away. 

Now  I  knew  exactly  why  I  was  staying  at 
the  house  of  the  miller.  I  was  doing  so  in 
order  that  I  might  go  early  in  the  mornings  to 
my  own  home,  in  which  the  girl  I  loved  lay 
dreaming,  and  that  for  the  rest  of  the  day  and 
much  of  the  night  I  might  think  of  her. 

"  What  place  in  Europe,"  I  said  to  myself, 


138          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

"  could  be  so  beautiful,  so  charming,  and  so 
helpful  to  reflection  as  this  sequestered  lake, 
these  noble  trees,  these  stretches  of  undulat 
ing  meadow  ?  " 

Even  if  I  should  care  to  go  abroad,  a 
month  or  two  later  would  answer  all  my  pur 
poses.  Why  had  I  ever  thought  of  spending 
five  months  away  ? 

There  was  a  pretty  stream  which  ran  from 
the  lake  and  wended  its  way  through  a  green 
and  shaded  valley,  and  here  with  a  rod  I 
wandered  and  fished  and  thought.  The  mil 
ler  had  boats,  and  in  one  of  these  I  rowed 
far  up  the  lake  where  it  narrowed  into  a 
creek,  and  between  the  high  hills  which  shut 
me  out  from  the  world  I  would  float  and 
think. 

Every  morning,  soon  after  break  of  day,  I 
went  to  my  home  and  wandered  about  my 
grounds.  If  it  rained  I  did  not  mind  that ;  I 
like  a  summer  rain. 

Day  by  day  I  grew  bolder.  Nobody  in 
that  household  thought  of  getting  up  until 
seven  o'clock.  For  two  hours,  at  least, 
I  could  ramble  undisturbed  through  my 
grounds,  and  much  as  I  had  once  enjoyed 
these  grounds,  they  never  afforded  me  the 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST    139 

pleasure  they  gave  me  now.  In  these  happy 
mornings  I  felt  all  the  life  and  spirits  of  a  boy. 
I  went  into  my  little  field  and  stroked  the 
sleek  sides  of  my  cows  as  they  nibbled  the 
dewy  grass.  I  even  peeped  through  the 
barred  window  of  Sappho's  box,  and  fed  her, 
as  I  had  been  used  to  doing,  with  bunches  of 
clover.  I  saw  that  the  young  chickens  were 
flourishing.  I  went  into  the  garden  and  noted 
the  growth  of  the  vegetables,  feeling  glad  that 
she  would  have  so  many  fine  strawberries  and 
tender  peas. 

I  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  she  was 
fond  of  flowers,  and  for  her  sake  now,  as  I 
used  to  do  for  my  own  sake,  I  visited  the 
flower  beds  and  borders.  Not  far  from  the 
house  there  was  a  cluster  of  old-fashioned 
pinks  which  I  was  sure  were  not  doing  very 
well.  They  had  been  there  too  long,  per 
haps,  and  they  looked  stunted  and  weak. 
In  the  miller's  garden  I  had  noticed  great 
beds  of  these  pinks  and  I  asked  his  wife  if  I 
might  have  some,  and  she,  considering  them 
as  mere  wild  flowers,  said  I  might  have  as 
many  as  I  liked.  She  might  have  thought 
I  wanted  simply  the  blossoms,  but  the  next 
morning  I  went  over  to  my  house  with  a  bas- 


140          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

ket  filled  with  great  matted  masses  of  the 
plants  taken  up  with  the  roots  and  plenty  of 
earth  around  them,  and  after  twenty  minutes' 
work  in  my  own  bed  of  pinks,  I  had  taken 
out  all  the  old  plants  and  filled  their  places 
with  fresh,  luxuriant  masses  of  buds  and 
leaves  and  blossoms.  How  glad  she  would 
be  when  she  saw  the  fresh  life  that  had  come 
to  that  flower  bed !  With  light  footsteps  I 
went  away,  not  feeling  the  weight  of  the  bas 
ket  filled  with  the  old  plants  and  roots. 

The  summer  grew  and  strengthened  and 
the  sun  rose  earlier,  but  as  that  had  no  effect 
upon  the  rising  of  the  present  inhabitants  of 
my  place,  it  gave  me  more  time  for  my  morn 
ing  pursuits.  Gradually  I  constituted  myself 
the  regular  flower-gardener  of  the  premises. 
How  delightful  the  work  was,  and  how  fool 
ish  I  thought  I  had  been  never  to  think  of 
doing  this  thing  for  myself,  but  no  doubt  it 
was  because  I  was  doing  it  for  her  that  I  found 
it  so  pleasant. 

Once  again  I  had  seen  Miss  Vincent.  It 
was  in  the  afternoon  and  I  had  rowed  myself 
to  the  upper  part  of  the  lake,  where,  with  the 
high  hills  and  the  trees  on  each  side  of  me,  I 
felt  as  if  I  were  alone  in  the  world.  Floating 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         141 

idly  along,  with  my  thoughts  about  three 
miles  away,  I  heard  the  sound  of  oars,  and 
looking  out  on  the  open  part  of  the  lake  I 
saw  a  boat  approaching.  The  miller  was 
rowing  and  in  the  stern  sat  an  elderly  gentle 
man  and  a  young  lady.  I  knew  them  in  an 
instant ;  they  were  Mr.  and  Miss  Vincent. 

With  a  few  vigorous  strokes  I  shot  myself 
into  the  shadows  and  rowed  up  the  stream 
into  the  narrow  stretches  among  the  lily  pads, 
under  a  bridge  and  around  a  little  wooded 
point,  where  I  ran  the  boat  ashore  and  sprang 
upon  the  grassy  bank.  I  did  not  believe  the 
miller  would  bring  them  as  far  as  this,  but  I 
Avent  up  to  a  higher  spot  and  watched  for 
half  an  hour,  but  I  did  not  see  them  again. 
How  relieved  I  was,  for  it  would  have  been 
terribly  embarrassing  had  they  discovered  me, 
and  how  disappointed  I  was  that  the  miller 
turned  back  so  soon  ! 

I  now  extended  the  supervision  of  mv 
grounds.  I  walked  through  the  woods,  and 
saw  how  beautiful  they  were  in  the  early 
dawn.  I  threw  aside  the  fallen  twigs  and 
cut  away  encroaching  saplings,  which  were 
beginning  to  encumber  the  paths  I  had  made, 
and  if  I  found  a  bough  which  hung  too  low  I 


142    LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

cut  it  off.  There  was  a  great  beech  tree,  be 
tween  which  and  a  dogwood  I  had  the  year 
before  suspended  a  hammock.  In  passing 
this  one  morning  I  was  amazed  to  see  a  ham 
mock  swinging  from  the  hooks  I  had  put  in 
the  two  trees.  This  was  a  retreat  which  I 
had  supposed  no  one  else  would  fancy  or 
even  think  of !  In  the  hammock  was  a  fan, 
a  common  Japanese  fan.  For  fifteen  minutes 
I  stood  looking  at  that  hammock,  every  nerve 
a-tingle.  Then  I  glanced  around;  the  spot 
had  been  almost  unfrequented  since  last 
summer ;  little  bushes,  weeds  and  vines  had 
sprung  up  here  and  there  between  the  two 
trees.  There  were  dead  twigs  and  limbs 
lying  about,  and  the  short  path  to  the  main 
walk  was  much  overgrown. 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  a  quarter  to 
six.  I  had  yet  a  good  hour  for  work,  and 
with  nothing  but  my  pocket-knife  and  my 
hands  I  began  to  clear  away  the  space  about 
that  hammock.  When  I  left  it  it  looked  as 
it  used  to  look  when  it  was  my  pleasure  to 
lie  there  and  swing  and  read  and  reflect. 

To  approach  this  spot  it  was  not  necessary 
to  go  through  my  grounds,  for  my  bit  of 
woods  adjoined  a  considerable  stretch  of  for- 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST          143 

est  land,  and  in  my  morning  walks  from  the 
mill  I  often  used  a  path  through  these  woods. 
The  next  morning  when  I  took  this  path  I 
was  late  because  I  had  unfortunately  over 
slept  myself.  When  I  reached  the  hammock 
it  wanted  fifteen  minutes  to  seven  o'clock. 
It  was  too  late  for  me  to  do  anything,  but  I 
was  glad  to  be  able  to  stay  there  even  for  a 
few  minutes,  to  breathe  that  air,  to  stand  on 
that  ground,  to  touch  that  hammock.  I  did 
more  than  that;  why  shouldn't  I?  I  got 
into  it.  It  was  a  better  one  than  that  I  had 
hung  there ;  it  was  delightfully  comfortable. 
At  this  moment,  gently  swinging  in  that 
woodland  solitude,  with  the  sweet  odors  of 
the  morning  all  about  me,  I  felt  myself  nearer 
to  her  than  I  had  ever  been  before. 

But  I  knew  I  must  not  revel  in  this  place 
too  long.  I  was  on  the  point  of  rising  to 
leave  when  I  heard  approaching  footsteps. 
My  breath  stopped ;  was  I  at  last  to  be  dis 
covered  ?  This  was  what  came  of  my  reck 
less  security.  But  perhaps  the  person,  some 
workman  most  likely,  would  pass  without 
noticing  me.  To  remain  quiet  seemed  the 
best  course,  and  I  lay  motionless. 

But  the   person  approaching  turned   into 


144:          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

the  little  pathway;  the  footsteps  came 
nearer.  I  sprang  from  the  hammock.  Be 
fore  me  was  Miss  Vincent ! 

What  was  my  aspect  I  know  not,  but  I 
have  no  doubt  I  turned  fiery  red.  She 
stopped  suddenly,  but  she  did  not  turn  red. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Kipley,"  she  exclaimed,  "  good- 
morning.  You  must  excuse  me.  I  did  not 
know 

That  she  should  have  had  sufficient  self- 
possession  to  say  good-morning  amazed  me. 
Her  whole  appearance,  in  fact,  amazed  me. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  wanting  in  her 
manner.  I  endeavored  to  get  myself  into 
condition. 

"  You  must  be  surprised,"  I  said,  "  to  see 
me  here.  You  supposed  I  was  in  Europe, 
but- 

As  I  spoke  I  made  a  couple  of  steps  toward 
her,  but  suddenly  stopped.  One  of  my  coat 
buttons  had  caught  in  the  meshes  of  the 
hammock.  It  was  confoundedly  awkward ; 
I  tried  to  loosen  the  button,  but  it  was  badly 
entangled  ;  then  I  desperately  pulled  at  it  to 
tear  it  off. 

"  Oh,  don't  do  that,"  she  said.  "  Let  me 
unfasten  it  for  you,"  and  taking  the  threads 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         145 

of  the  hammock  in  one  of  her  little  hands 
and  the  button  in  the  other  she  quickly 
separated  them.  "  I  should  think  buttons 
would  be  very  inconvenient  things,  at  least, 
in  hammocks,"  she  said  smiling;  "you  see 
girls  don't  have  any  such  trouble." 

I  could  not  understand  her  manner;  she 
seemed  to  take  my  being  there  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

"  I  must  beg  a  thousand  pardons  for  this 
— this  trespass,"  I  said. 

"  Trespass  !  "  said  she  with  a  smile ;  "  peo 
ple  don't  trespass  on  their  own  land." 

"But  it  is  not  my  land,"  said  I.  "It  is 
your  father's  for  the  time  being.  I  have  no 
right  here  whatever.  I  do  not  know  how  to 
explain,  but  you  must  think  it  very  strange  to 
find  me  here  when  you  supposed  I  had  started 
for  Europe." 

"Oh,  I  knew  you  had  not  started  for 
Europe,"  said  she,  "because  I  have  seen  you 
working  in  the  grounds." 

"  Seen  me  !  "  I  interrupted.  "  Is  it  pos 
sible  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she.  "  I  don't  know  how 
long  you  had  been  coming  when  I  first  saw 
you,  but  when  I  found  that  fresh  bed  of 


146          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

pinks  all  transplanted  from  somewhere,  and 
just  as  lovely  as  they  could  be,  instead  of  the 
old  ones,  I  spoke  to  the  man,  but  he  did  not 
know  anything  about  it  and  said  he  had  not 
had  time  to  do  anything  to  the  flowers, 
whereas  I  had  been  giving  him  credit  for 
ever  so  much  weeding  and  cleaning  up.  Then 
I  supposed  that  Mr.  Barker,  who  is  just 
as  kind  and  attentive  as  he  can  be,  had  done 
it,  but  I  could  hardly  believe  he  was  the  sort 
of  man  to  come  early  in  the  morning  and 
work  out-of-doors  " — (oh,  how  I  wish  he  had 
come,  I  thought.  If  I  had  caught  him  here 
working  among  the  flowers  !) — "  and  when 
he  came  that  afternoon  to  play  tennis  I  found 
that  he  had  been  away  for  two  days,  and 
could  not  have  planted  the  pinks,  so  I  simply 
got  up  early  one  morning  and  looked  out  and 
there  I  saw  you,  with  your  coat  off,  working 
just  as  hard  as  ever  you  could." 

I  stepped  back,  my  mind  for  a  moment  a 
perfect  blank. 

"  What  could  you  have  thought  of  me  ?  "  I 
exclaimed  presently. 

"  Really,  at  first  I  did  not  know  what  to 
think,"  said  she.  "  Of  course,  I  did  not 
know  what  had  detained  you  in  this  country, 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         147 

but  I  remembered  that  I  had  heard  that  you 
were  a  very  particular  person  about  your 
flowers  and  shrubs  and  grounds,  and  that 
most  likely  you  thought  they  would  be  better 
taken  care  of  if  you  kept  an  eye  on  them,  and 
that  when  you  found  there  was  so  much  to  do 
you  just  went  to  work  and  did  it.  I  did  not 
speak  of  this  to  anybody,  because  if  you  did 
not  wish  it  to  be  known  that  you  were  taking 
care  of  the  grounds  it  was  not  my  business 
to  tell  people  about  it.  But  yesterday  when 
I  found  this  place  where  I  had  hung  my 
hammock  so  beautifully  cleared  up  and  made 
so  nice  and  clean  and  pleasant  in  every  way, 
I  thought  I  must  come  down  to  tell  you  how 
much  obliged  I  am  and  also  that  you  ought 
not  to  take  so  much  trouble  for  us.  If  you 
think  the  grounds  need  more  attention  I  will 
persuade  my  father  to  hire  another  man,  now 
and  then,  to  work  about  the  place.  Really, 
Mr.  Eipley,  you  ought  not  to  have  to — 

I  was  humbled,  abashed.  She  had  seen 
me  at  my  morning  devotions,  and  this  was 
the  way  she  interpreted  them.  She  consid 
ered  me  an  over-nice  fellow  who  was  so 
desperately  afraid  his  place  would  be  injured 
that  he  came  sneaking  around  every  morning 


14-8          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

to  see  if  any  damage  had  been  done  and  to 
put  things  to  rights. 

She  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  expecting  me 
to  speak,  brushed  a  buzzing  fly  from  her 
sleeve,  and  then,  looking  at  me  with  a  gentle 
smile,  she  turned  a  little  as  if  she  were  about 
to  leave. 

I  could  not  let  her  go  without  telling  her 
something.  Her  present  opinion  of  me  must 
not  rest  in  her  mind  another  minute,  and  yet 
what  story  could  I  devise?  How,  indeed, 
could  I  devise  anything  with  which  to  de 
ceive  a  girl  who  spoke  and  looked  at  me  as 
this  girl  did?  I  could  not  do  it.  I  must 
rush  away  speechless  and  never  see  her  again, 
or  I  must  tell  her  all.  I  came  a  little  nearer 
to  her. 

"  Miss  Vincent,"  said  I,  "  you  do  not  un 
derstand  at  all  why  I  am  here,  why  I  have 
been  here  so  much,  why  I  did  not  go  to  Eu 
rope.  The  truth  is  I  could  not  leave.  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  away,  I  want  to  come  here 
and  live  here  always — 

"  Oh,  dear,"  she  interrupted,  "  of  course  it 
is  natural  that  you  should  not  want  to  tear 
yourself  away  from  your  lovely  home.  It 
would  be  very  hard  for  us  to  go  away  now, 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         149 

especially  for  father  and  me,  for  we  have 
grown  to  love  this  place  so  much,  but  if  you 
want  us  to  leave,  I  dare  say— 

"  I  want  you  to  leave ! "  I  exclaimed. 
"  Never !  When  I  say  that  I  want  to  live 
here  myself,  that  my  heart  will  not  let  me  go 
anywhere  else,  I  mean  that  I  want  you  to  live 
here  too — you,  your  mother  and  father — that 
I  want- 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  perfectly  splendid," 
she  said.  "  I  have  ever  so  often  thought  that 
it  was  a  shame  that  you  should  be  deprived 
of  the  pleasures  you  so  much  enjoy,  which  I 
see  you  can  find  here  and  nowhere  else. 
Now,  I  have  a  plan  which  I  think  will  work 
splendidly.  We  are  a  very  small  family. 
Why  shouldn't  you  come  here  and  live  with 
us  ?  There  is  plenty  of  room,  and  I  know 
father  and  mother  would  be  very  glad,  and 
you  can  pay  your  board  if  that  would  please 
you  better.  You  can  have  the  room  at  the 
top  of  the  tower  for  your  study  and  your 
smoking  den,  and  the  room  under  it  can  be 
your  bedroom,  so  you  can  be  just  as  indepen 
dent  as  you  please  of  the  rest  of  us,  and  you 
can  be  living  on  your  own  place  without  in 
terfering  with  us  in  the  least.  In  fact,  it 


150          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

would  be  ever  so  nice,  especially  as  I  am  in 
the  habit  of  going  away  to  the  seashore  with 
my  aunt  every  summer  for  six  weeks,  and  I 
was  thinking  how  lonely  it  would  be  this  year 
for  father  and  mother  to  stay  here  all  by 
themselves." 

The  tower  and  the  room  under  it !  For 
me  !  What  a  contemptibly  little-minded  and 
insignificant  person  she  must  think  me.  The 
words  with  which  I  strove  to  tell  her  that  I 
wished  to  live  here  as  lord,  with  her  as  my 
queen,  would  not  come.  She  looked  at  me 
for  a  moment  as  I  stood  on  the  brink  of  say 
ing  something  but  not  saying  it,  and  then  she 
turned  suddenly  toward  the  hammock. 

"Did  you  see  anything  of  a  fan  I  left 
here  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  know  I  left  it  here,  but 
when  I  came  yesterday  it  was  gone.  Perhaps 
you  may  have  noticed  it  somewhere." 

Now,  the  morning  before,  I  had  taken  that 
fan  home  with  me.  It  was  an  awkward  thing 
to  carry,  but  I  had  concealed  it  under  my 
coat.  It  was  a  contemptible  trick,  but  the 
fan  had  her  initials  on  it,  and  as  it  was  the 
only  thing  belonging  to  her  of  which  I  could 
possess  myself,  the  temptation  had  been  too 
great  to  resist.  As  she  stood  waiting  for  my 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         151 

answer  there  was  a  light  in  her  eye  which  il 
luminated  niy  perceptions. 

"  Did  you  see  me  take  that  fan  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  did,"  said  she. 

"  Then  you  know,"  I  exclaimed,  stepping 
nearer  to  her,  "  why  it  is  I  did  not  leave  this 
country  as  I  intended,  why  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  tear  myself  away  from  this  house, 
why  it  is  that  I  have  been  here  every  morn 
ing  hovering  around  and  doing  the  things  I 
have  been  doing  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  me,  and  with  her  eyes  she 
said,  "  How  could  I  help  knowing  ?  "  She 
might  have  intended  to  say  something  with 
her  lips,  but  I  took  my  answer  from  her  eyes, 
and  with  a  quick  impulse  of  a  lover  I 
stopped  her  speech. 

"  You  have  strange  ways,"  she  said,  pres 
ently,  blushing  and  gently  pressing  back  my 
arm  ;  "  I  haven't  told  you  a  thing." 

"  Let  us  tell  each  other  everything  now," 
I  cried ;  and  we  seated  ourselves  in  the  ham 
mock. 

It  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  and  we 
were  still  sitting  together  in  tjie  hammock. 

"  You  may  think,"  said  she,  "  that,  know 
ing  what  I  did,  it  was  very  queer  for  me  to 


152          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

come  out  to  you  this  morning,  but  I  could 
not  help  it.  You  were  getting  so  dreadfully 
careless  and  were  staying  so  late  and  doing 
things  which  people  would  have  been  bound 
to  notice,  especially  as  father  is  always  talk 
ing  about  our  enjoying  the  fresh  hours  of  the 
morning,  that  I  felt  I  could  not  let  you  go  on 
any  longer.  And  when  it  came  to  that  fan 
business  I  saw  plainly  that  you  must  either 
immediately  start  for  Europe,  or " 

"Or  what,"  I  interrupted. 

"  Or  go  to  my  father  and  regularly  engage 
yourself  as  a " 

I  do  not  know  whether  she  was  going  to 
say  gardener  or  not,  but  it  did  not  matter ;  I 
stopped  her. 

It  was  perhaps  twenty  minutes  later  and 
we  were  standing  together  at  the  edge  of  the 
woods ;  she  wanted  me  to  come  to  the  house 
to  take  breakfast  with  them. 

"  Oh,  I  could  not  do  that,"  I  said;  "they 
would  be  so  surprised.  I  should  have  so 
much  to  explain  before  I  could  even  begin  to 
state  my  case." 

"  Well,  then  explain,"  said  she.  "You  will 
find  father  on  the  front  piazza.  He  is  always 
there  before  breakfast,  and  there  is  plenty  of 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST         153 

time.  After  all  that  has  been  said  here  I  can 
not  go  to  breakfast  and  look  commonplace 
while  you  run  away." 

"  But  suppose  your  father  objects  ?  "  said  I. 

"Well,  then  you  will  have  to  go  back 
and  take  breakfast  with  your  miller,"  said 
she. 

I  never  saw  a  family  so  little  affected  by 
surprises  as  those  Vincents.  When  I  appeared 
on  the  front  piazza  the  old  gentleman  did 
not  jump.  He  shook  hands  with  me  and 
asked  me  to  sit  down,  and  when  I  told  him 
everything  he  did  not  even  ejaculate,  but 
simply  folded  his  hands  together  and  looked 
out  over  the  railing. 

"  It  seemed  strange  to  Mrs.  Vincent  and 
myself,"  he  said,  "when  we  first  noticed  your 
extraordinary  attachment  for  our  daughter, 
but  after  all  it  was  natural  enough." 

"Noticed  it!"  I  exclaimed;  "when  did 
you  do  that?" 

"Very  soon,"  he  said.  "When  you  and 
Cora  were  cataloguing  the  books  at  my  house 
in  town  I  noticed  it  and  spoke  to  Mrs.  Vin 
cent,  but  she  said  it  was  nothing  new  to  her, 
for  it  was  plain  enough  on  the  day  when  we 
first  met  you  here  that  you  were  letting  the 


154          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

house  to  Cora,  and  that  she  had  not  spoken 
of  it  to  me  because  she  was  afraid  I  might 
think  it  wrong  to  accept  the  favorable  and 
unusual  arrangements  you  were  making  with 
us  if  I  suspected  the  reason  for  them.  We 
talked  over  the  matter,  but,  of  course,  we 
could  do  nothing,  because  there  was  nothing 
to  do,  and  Mrs.  Vincent  was  quitgjmre  you 
would  write  to  us  from  Europe.  [But  when 
my  man  Ambrose  told  me  he  had  seen  some 
one  working  about  the  place  in  the  very  early 
morning,  and  that  as  it  was  a  gentleman  he 
supposed  it  must  be  the  landlord,  for  nobody 
else  would  be  doing  such  things,  Mrs.  Vin 
cent  and  myself  looked  out  of  the  window  the 
next  day,  and  when  we  found  it  was  indeed  you 
who  were  coming  here  every  day  we  felt  that 
the  matter  was  serious  and  were  a  good  deal 
troubled.  We  found,  however,  that  you  were 
conducting  affairs  in  a  very  honorable  way, 
that  you  were  not  endeavoring  to  see  Cora, 
and  that  you  did  not  try  to  have  any  secret 
correspondence  with  her,  and  as  we  had  no 
right  to  prevent  you  from  coming  on  your 
grounds,  we  concluded  to  remain  quiet  until 
you  should  take  some  step  which  we  would 
be  authorized  to  notice.  Later,  when  Mr. 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST    155 

Barker  came  and  told  me  that  you  had  not 
gone  to  Europe  and  were  living  with  a  miller 
not  far  from  here 

"  Barker !  "  I  cried.     "  The  scoundrel ! " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Vincent ; 
"  he  spoke  with  the  greatest  kindness  of  you, 
and  said  that  as  it  was  evident  you  had  your 
own  reasons  for  wishing  to  stay  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  and  did  not  wish  the  fact  to  be 
known,  he  had  spoken  of  it  to  no  one  but  me, 
and  he  would  not  have  done  this  had  he  not 
thought  it  would  prevent  embarrassment  in 
case  we  should  meet." 

Would  that  everlasting  Barker  ever  cease 
meddling  in  my  affairs  ? 

"Do  you  suppose,"  I  asked,  "that  he 
imagined  the  reason  for  my  staying  here  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"  but  after  the  questions  I  put  to  him  I  have 
no  doubt  he  suspected  it.  I  made  many  in 
quiries  of  him  regarding  you,  your  family, 
habits,  and  disposition,  for  this  was  a  very 
vital  matter  to  me,  sir,  and  I  am  happy  to  in 
form  you  that  he  said  nothing  of  you  that  was 
not  good,  so  I  urged  him  to  keep  the  matter 
to  himself.  I  determined,  however,  that  if 
yoji  continued  your  morning  visits  I  should 


156          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

take  an  early  opportunity  of  accosting  you  and 
asking  an  explanation." 

"  And  you  never  mentioned  anything  of  this 
to  your  daughter  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  answered; "  we  carefully  kept 
everything  from  her." 

"But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  I,  rising,  "you 
have  given  me  no  answer.  You  have  not  told 
me  whether  or  not  you  will  accept  me  as  a 
son-in-law." 

He  smiled.  "  Truly,"  he  said,  "  I  have  not 
answered  you,  but  the  fact  is,  Mrs.  Vincent 
and  I  have  considered  the  matter  so  long, 
and  having  come  to  the  conclusion  that  if 
you  made  an  honorable  and  straightforward 
proposition,  and  if  Cora  were  willing  to 
accept  you,  we  could  see  no  reason  to  object 
to— 

At  this  moment  the  front  door  opened  and 
Cora  appeared. 

"Are  you  going  to  stay  to  breakfast?" 
she  asked.  "  Because,  if  you  are,  it  is  ready." 

I  stayed  to  breakfast. 

I  am  now  living  in  my  own  house,  not  in 
the  two  tower  rooms,  but  in  the  whole  man 
sion,  of  which  my  former  tenant,  Cora,  is  now 
mistress  supreme.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Yincent  ex- 


JM17rB11Trf[i1h^^^t^3HBHMLTfc- '''  *^^^^^^^B 

-   \ 

* 


LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST    157 

pect  to  spend  the  next  summer  here  and  take 
care  of  the  house  while  we  are  travelling. 

Mr.  Barker,  an  excellent  fellow  and  a  most 
thorough  business  man,  still  manages  my 
affairs,  and  there  is  nothing  on  the  place  that 
flourishes  so  vigorously  as  the  bed  of  pinks 
which  I  got  from  the  miller's  wife. 

By  the  way,  when  I  went  back  to  my  lodg 
ing  on  that  eventful  day,  the  miller's  wife  met 
me  at  the  door. 

"  I  kept  your  breakfast  waiting  for  you  for 
a  good  while,"  said  she,  "  but  as  you  didn't 
come  I  supposed  you  were  taking  breakfast 
in  your  own  house  and  I  cleared  it  away." 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  she  said ;  "  we  did  not  at 
first,  but  when  everybody  began  to  talk  about 
it  we  couldn't  help  knowing  it." 

"  Everybody  !  "  I  gasped.  "  And  may  I 
ask  what  you  and  everybody  said  about  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  was  the  general  opinion,  sir," 
said  she,  "  that  you  were  suspicious  of  them 
tenants  of  yours,  and  nobody  wondered  at  it, 
for  when  city  people  gets  into  the  country 
and  on  other  people's  property,  there's  no 
trusting  them  out  of  your  sight  for  a  minute." 

I  could  not  let  the  good  woman  hold  this 


158          LOVE  BEFORE  BREAKFAST 

opinion  of  my  tenants,  and  I  briefly  told  her 
the  truth.  She  looked  at  me  with  moist  ad 
miration  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,  sir,"  said  she.  "  I 
like  it  very  much,  but  if  I  was  you  I  wouldn't 
be  in  a  hurry  to  tell  my  husband  and  the 
people  in  the  neighborhood  about  it.  They 
might  be  a  little  disappointed  at  first,  for  they 
had  a  mighty  high  opinion  of  you  when  they 
thought  that  you  was  layin'  low  here  to  keep 
an  eye  on  them  tenants  of  yours." 


THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST  AND  THE 
PRINTER'S   BABY 


THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST  AND  THE 
PRINTER'S    BABY 

A  KOTJND  the  walls  of  a  certain  old  church 
l\  there  stood  many  tombs,  and  these  had 
been  there  so  long  that  the  plaster  with  which 
their  lids  were  fastened  down  had  dried  and 
crumbled  so  that  in  most  of  them  there  were 
long  cracks  under  their  lids,  and  out  of  these 
the  ghosts  of  the  people  who  had  been  buried 
in  -tho  tomb  were  in  the  habit  of  escaping  at 
night. 

This  had  been  going  on  for  a  long  time, 
and,^-ai  ihc  pcriodrtrf-  our  otory»  the  tombs 
were  in  such  bad  repair  that  every  night  the 
body  of  the  church  was  4Ht  filled  with  ghosts^SO 
that  before  daylight  one  of  the  sacristans  was 
obliged  to  come  into  the  church  and  sprinkle 
holy  water  everywhere.  This  was  done  to 
clear  the  church  of  ghosts  before  the  first  ser 
vice  began,  and  who  does  not  know  that  if  a 
ghost  is  sprinkled  with  holy  water  it  shrivels 


162  THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST 


up! 

eascluisrvoly  -ky—  ffrantoro  on  thoir  way  hom-e 

from--  their  nightly  labors  on  the  journals-of 

LiiO  TJO  >V1)» 

The  tomb  which  had  the  largest  crack 
under  its  lid  belonged  to  a  bishop  who  had 
died  more  than  a  hundred  years  before,  and 
who  had  a  great  reputation  for  sanctity  ;  so 
much  so,  indeed,  that  people  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  picking  little  pieces  of  plaster  from 
under  the  lid  of  his  tomb  and  carrying  them 
away  as  holy  relics,  to  prevent  disease  and 
accidents. 

This  tomb  was  more  imposing  than  -the 
othoro,  and-stood  upon  a  pedestal,  so  that  the 
crack  beneath  its  lid  was  quite  plain  to  view, 
.and  remarks  had  been  made  abo.ut  having  it 


•j 
was 


Yery  early  one  morning,  before  it  was  time 
for  the  first  service,  there  came  into  the 
church  a  poor  mason,  Jlis  wife  had  roocntl 

n  £  *  •    l  *S  'J  i 

^eeov-efcd  from  ••Qr--«e¥e¥O--£icknQ00)  ami  Ko  wa 
desirous  of  making  an  offering  to  the  church. 
But  having  no  money  to  spare,  he  had  deter 
mined  that  he  would  repair  the  bishop's 
tomt>  and  he  •conscqtrefttly  -earae  -ttr-do  this 
bef ore-Ids  regular  hours  of  work  began. 


AND   THE  PRINTER'S  BABY         163 

All  the  ghosts  were  out  of  their  tombs  at 
the  time,  but  they  were  gathered  in  the  other 
end  of  the  church,  and  the  mason  did  not  see 
them,  nor  did  they  notice  him  ;  and  he  im 
mediately  went  to  work.  He-fend  brought- 
smfre  plaster  and  a,  trowol,  and  i-fe-wae-aot 
long-  before  tho  oraek  under  the  lid  of  the 
tomb  was  entirely  filled  up,  and  the  plaster 
made  as  smooth  aird  neat  as  when  the  tomb 


^       Whon  hio   work  waa  finiohod,  tho  maoon 
^e—  left  the  church  by  the  little  side  door  which 
had  given  him  entrance. 

Not  ten  minutes  afterward  the  sacristan 
came  in  to  sprinkle  the  church  with  holy 
water.  Instantly  the  ghosts  began  to  scatter 
right  and  left,  and  to  slip  into  their  tombs  as 
quickly  as  possible,  but  when  the  ghost  of  the 
good  bishop  reached  his  tomb  he  found  it  im 
possible  to  get  in.  He  wont  aronnd  and  aromid 
could  he  find  the  least  little 


ekist-by  which  he  could  enter.  The-sacristan 
wfts-walkitig  along  the  other  side  of  the  church, 
scattering  holy  water,  and  in  great  trepida 
tion  the  bishop's  ghost  hastened  from  tomb 
to  tomb,  hoping  to  find  one  which  was  unoc- 
crtpiedy-i&to  which  lie  could  slip 


164  THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST 


sprinkling  began  o 

He   soon    came    to*  ••fiT  which   he   thought 

might  be  unoccupied,  but  he  discovered  to 

his   consternation   that  it  was   occupied  by 

the  ghost  of  a  young  girl  who  had  died  of 

love. 

"Alas!     alas!"    ^esekmttGd   iho    bioliopfe 
,gkosL.    "  How  unlucky  !     Who  would   have 
supposed  this  to  be  your  tomb  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  really  my  tomb,"  said  the  ghost 
of  the  young  girl.  "It  is  the  tomb  of  Sir 
Geoffrey  of  the  Marie,  who  was  killed  in  bat 
tle  nigh  two  centuries  ago.  I  was  told  that  if 
had  boon  ompfo  forTt^ottg-feaerfefr  his  ghost 
had  gone  to  Castle  Marle^Iot  long  ago  I 
came  into  the  church,  and  finding  thi&4omb 
unoccupied,  I  settled  here." 

"  Ah,  me  !  "  said  the  bishop's  ghost,  "  the 
sacristan  will  soon  be  around  here  with  holy 
water.  Could  not  you  get  out  and  go  to  your 
own  tomb  ;  where  is  that  ?  " 

"Alas,  good  father," 


young  girl,  "  I  have  no  tomb  ;  I  was  buried 
plainly  in  the  ground,  and  I  do  not  know  that 
I  could  find  the  place  again.  But  I  have  no 
right  to  keep  you  out  of  this  tomb,  good 
father  ;  it  is  as  much  yours  as  it  is  mine,  so  I 


AND  THE  PRINTERS  BABY         165 

will  come  out  and  let  you  enter  j  -tettl^v  you 
-are  in  groat  danger.  As  for  me,  it  doesn't 
matter  very  much  whether  I  am  sprinkled  or 
not." 

So  the  ghost  of  the  young  girl  slipped  out 
of  Sir  Geoffrey's  tomb,  and  the  bishop's 
ghost  slipped  in,  but  nofe  a  mimite  before  the 
ftrt-eristan  had  reached  the  place.  The  ghost 
of  the  young  girl  flitted  from  one  pillar  to  an 
other  «n4il  it  came  near  the  door,  and  there 
it  paused,  thinking  what  it  should  do  next. 
E^>n  if  tt  oenld  fii*^  the  grave  from  which  it 
-had  come,  it  did  not  want  to  go  back  to  such 
«,  place  ;  it  liked  churches  better. 

Soon  the  printers  began  to  come  in  to  the 
early  morning  service.  One  of  them  was  very 
sad,  and  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  He  was 
a  young  man,  not  long  married,  and  Luu&i&p 
&  baby  girlN  was  so  sick  that  he  scarcely  ex 
pected  to  find  it  alive  when  he  should  reach 
home  that  morning. 

The  ghost  of  the  young  girl  was  attracted 
by  the  sorrowful  printer,  and  when  the  ser 
vice  was  over,  and  he  had  left  the  church,  it 
followed  him,  keeping  itself  unseen.  The 
printer  found  his  wife  in  tears  ;  the  poor  lit 
tle  baby  was  very  low.  It  lay  upon  the  bed, 


166  THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST 

its  eyes  shut,  its  face  pale  and  pinched,  gasp 
ing  for  breath. 

Tho  mother  wao  obliged  to  loavo  tho  room 
for  a  few  moments  -to-attend  to  some  house 
hold -aJE&ir,  and  her  husband  followed  to  oom 
f  oxtiier,  and  when  they  were  goag4be-  ghoot 
of  fh ft  ynrmor  -girl  approached  the. Jaed-aad 
lojoked— do.\vn  on  the  little  baby.  -It  was 
nearer-death  than  its  parents  suppose<i,-fttttl. 

fing.rn.P.1y  1inrl    J-.Vipy  grma befnvp-  ^  flrPW  Jtfi  IftFit 

breath^ 

The  ghost  of  the  young  girl  bowed  its  head. 
It  was  filled  with  pity  and  sympathy  for  the 
printer  and  his  wife.  In  an  instant,  however, 
it  was  seized  with  an  idea,  and  the  next  in 
stant  it  had  acted  upon  it.  Scarcely  had  the 
spirit  of  the  little  baby  left  its  body  than  the 
spirit  of  the  young  girl  entered  it. 

Now  a  gentle  warmth  suffused  the  form  of 
the  little  child,  a  natural  color  came  into  its 
cheeks,  it  breathed  quietly  and  regularly,  and 
when  the  printer  and  his  wife  came  back  they 
found  their  baby  in  a  healthful  sleep.  -As. 
thoy  stood  amazed  Tttribe-ehango  in  -4fee-eo*H*- 
tenance  of  the  child  it  opened  its  even  and 
smiled  upon  them. 

"The  crisis   is  past!"  cried  the  mother. 


AND   THE  PRINTER'S  BABY          167 

"She  is  saved,  and  it  is  all  because  you 
stopped  at  the  church  instead  of  hurrying 
home,  as  you  wished  to  do."  The  ghost  of 
the  young  girl  knew  that  this  was  true,  and 
the  baby  smiled, f«pMh 

It  was  eighteen  years  later,  and  the  print 
er's  baby  had  grown  into  a  beautiful  young 
woman.  From  her  early  childhood  she  had 
been  fond  of  visiting  the  church,  and  would 
spend  hours  among  the  tombs  reading  the  in 
scriptions,  and  sometimes  sitting  by  thorn  VOBH 
penally  by  the  tomb  of  Sir  Geoffrey  of  the 
Marie.  There,  when  there  was  nobody  by, 
she  used  to  talk  with  the  bishop's  ghost. 

Lato  ono  afternoon  oho  oamo  to  tke~4ornb 
wi4h  a  happy  smile  oa  ker  faoo. — "^Eoly-fa- 
thor,"  she  said,  BpeakmgHse&iy-toough  the 

;. -staying  so  long 


tomb  whic 


,  I  am,  daughter, 


right  to  complain.  I 
back  here  in  the  early  morning 
without  a  fooling  of- the  warmest  gratitude  &y 
yott-for  having  given  me-*-  place  of  refuge. 
'My  greatest  trouble  is  caused  by  the  fear  thaT^ 
the  ghost  of  Sir  Geoffrey  of  <•  thc"Mrtrk^  may 
some  time  choose  to  return.  In  that  case  I 


168  THE  BISHOP'S  GHOST 

must  give  up  to  him  his  tomb.     And  then, 
where,  oh  where,  shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  Holy  father,"  whinporod  thn  girl,  "  do  not 
trouble  yourself ;  you  shall  have  your  own 
tomb  again,  and  need  fear  no  one." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  -exclaimed  the  DIt>liup*B 
ghosfcr  -"-TeHrmc,  quickly,  daughter" 

"  This  is  the  way  of  it,"  wjjliud  the  young- 
gict,  "  When  the  mason  plastered  up  the 
crack  under  the  lid  of  your  tomb  he  seems  to 
have  been  very  careful  about  the  front  part 
of  it,  but  he  did  not  take  much  pains  with  the 
back,  where  his  work  was  not  likely  to  be  seen, 
so  that  there  the  plaster  has  crumbled  and 
loosened  very  much,  and  with  a  long  pin  from 
my  hair  I  have  picked  out  ever  so  much  of 
it,  and  now  there  is  a  great  crack  at  the  back 
of  the  tomb,  where  you  can  go  in  and  come 
out  JTffii.. as  easily  as  you  ever  did.  As  soon 
as  night  shall  fall  you  can  leave  this  tomb  and 
go  into  your  own." 

The  bishop's  ghost  could  scarcely  speak 
for  thankful  emotions,  and  the  happy  young 
girl  went  home  to  the  house  of  her  father, 
now  a  prosperous  man,  and  the  head  printer 
of  the  town. 

The  next  evening  the  young  girl  went  to 


AND  THE  PRINTER'S  BABY         169 

the  church  and  hurried  to  the  bishop's  tomb. 
Therein  she  found  the  bishop's  ghost,  happy 
and  content. 

Sitting  on  a  stone  projection  at  the  back  of 
the  tomb,  she  had  a  long  conversation  with 
the  bishop's  ghost,  which^iu..  gi'ntjitudfl  fur 
what  >.l*»"4MriMaap  gave  her  all  manner  of 
good  advice  and  counsel.  "  Above  all  things, 
my  dear  daughteiV'<«ft44~4k<rHc^ 
"do  not  repeat  your  first  great  mistake; 
promise  me  that  you  will  not  die  of  love." 

The  young  girl  smiled.  "  Fear  not,  good 
father,"  sko  ropliocL- "  When  I  died  of  love  I 
was,  in  body  and  soul,  but  eighteen  years  old, 
and  knew  no  better  ;  now,  although  my  body 
is  but  eighteen,  my  soul  is  thirty-six.  Fear 
not,  never  again  shall  I  die  of  love." 


CAPTAIN   ELI'S  BEST  EAR 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR 

THE  little  seaside  village  of  Sponkannis 
lies  so  quietly  upon  a  protected  spot  on 
our  Atlantic  coast  that  it  makes  no  more  stir 
in  the  world  than  would  a  pebble  which,  held 
between  one's  finger  and  thumb,  should  be 
dipped  below  the  surface  of  a  mill-pond  and 
then  dropped.  About  the  post-office  and  the 
store — both  under  the  same  roof — the  greater 
number  of  the  houses  cluster,  as  if  they  had 
come  for  their  week's  groceries,  or  were  wait 
ing  for  the  mail ;  while  toward  the  west  the 
dwellings  become  fewer  and  fewer,  until  at 
last  the  village  blends  into  a  long  stretch  of 
sandy  coast  and  scrubby  pine-woods.  East 
ward  the  village  ends  abruptly  at  the  foot  of 
a  wind-swept  bluff,  011  which  no  one  cares  to 
build. 

Among  the  last  houses  in  the  western  end 
of  the  village  stood  two  neat,  substantial 
dwellings,  one  belonging  to  Captain  Eli 


174:  CAPTAIN  ELP8  BEST  EAR 

Bunker,  and  the  other  to  Captain  Cephas 
Dyer.  These  householders  were  two  very  re 
spectable  retired  mariners,  the  first  a  wid 
ower  about  fifty,  and  the  other  a  bachelor  of 
perhaps  the  same  age,  a  few  years  more  or 
less  making  but  little  difference  in  this  region 
of  weather-beaten  youth  and  seasoned  age. 

Each  of  these  good  captains  lived  alone, 
and  each  took  entire  charge  of  his  own  do 
mestic  affairs,  not  because  he  was  poor,  but 
because  it  pleased  him  to  do  so.  When  Cap 
tain  Eli  retired  from  the  sea  he  was  the  own 
er  of  a  good  vessel,  which  he  sold  at  a  fair 
profit ;  and  Captain  Cephas  had  made  money 
in  many  a  voyage  before  he  built  his  house  in 
Sponkannis  and  settled  there. 

When  Captain  Eli's  wife  was  living,  she 
was  his  household  manager;  but  Captain 
Cephas  had  never  had  a  woman  in  his  house, 
except  during  the  first  few  months  of  his 
occupancy,  when  certain  female  neighbors 
came  in  occasionally  to  attend  to  little  mat 
ters  of  cleaning  which,  according  to  popular 
notions,  properly  belong  to  the  sphere  of 
woman. 

But  Captain  Cephas  soon  put  an  end  to 
this  sort  of  thing.  He  did  not  like  a  woman's 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          175 

ways,  especially  her  ways  of  attending  to  do 
mestic  affairs.  He  liked  to  live  in  sailor 
fashion,  and  to  keep  house  in  sailor  fashion. 
In  his  establishment  everything  was  ship 
shape,  and  everything  which  could  be  stowed 
away  was  stowed  away,  and,  if  possible,  in  a 
bunker.  The  floors  were  holystoned  nearly 
every  day,  and  the  whole  house  was  repainted 
about  twice  a  year,  a  little  at  a  time,  when  the 
weather  was  suitable  for  this  marine  recrea 
tion.  Things  not  in  frequent  use  were  lashed 
securely  to  the  walls,  or  perhaps  put  out  of 
the  way  by  being  hauled  up  to  the  ceiling  by 
means  of  blocks  and  tackle.  His  cooking  was 
done  sailor  fashion,  like  everything  else,  and 
he  never  failed  te  have  plum-duff  on  Sunday. 
His  well  was  near  his  house,  and  every  morn 
ing  he  dropped  into  it  a  lead  and  line,  and 
noted  down  the  depth  of  water.  Three  times 
a  day  he  entered  in  a  little  note-book  the  state 
of  the  weather,  the  height  of  the  mercury  in 
barometer  and  thermometer,  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  and  special  weather  points  when 
necessary. 

Captain  Eli  managed  his  domestic  affairs 
in  an  entirely  different  way.  He  kept  house 
woman  fashion,  not,  however,  in  the  manner 


176  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

of  an  ordinary  woman,  but  after  the  manner 
of  his  late  wife,  Miranda  Bunker,  now  dead 
some  seven  years.  Like  his  friend,  Captain 
Cephas,  he  had  had  the  assistance  of  his  fe 
male  neighbors  during  the  earlier  days  of  his 
widowerhood.  But  he  soon  found  that  these 
women  did  not  do  things  as  Miranda  used 
to  do  them,  and  although  he  frequently  sug 
gested  that  they  should  endeavor  to  imitate 
the  methods  of  his  late  consort,  they  did  not 
even  try  to  do  things  as  she  used  to  do  them, 
preferring  their  own  ways.  Therefore  it  was 
that  Captain  Eli  determined  to  keep  house  by 
himself,  and  to  do  it,  as  nearly  as  his  nature 
would  allow,  as  Miranda  used  to  do  it.  He 
swept  his  floors  and  he  shook  his  door-mats, 
he  washed  his  paint  with  soap  and  hot  water, 
and  he  dusted  his  furniture  with  a  soft  cloth, 
which  he  afterward  stuck  behind  a  chest  of 
drawers.  He  made  his  bed  very  neatly,  turn 
ing  down  the  sheet  at  the  top,  and  setting 
the  pillow  upon  edge,  smoothing  it  carefully 
after  he  had  done  so.  His  cooking  was  based 
on  the  methods  of  the  late  Miranda ;  he  had 
never  been  able  to  make  bread  rise  properly, 
but  he  had  always  liked  ship  biscuit,  and  he 
now  greatly  preferred  them  to  the  risen 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR  177 

bread  made  by  liis  neighbors  ;  and  as  to  cof 
fee  and  the  plainer  articles  of  food  with 
which  he  furnished  his  table,  even  Miranda 
herself  would  not  have  objected  to  them  had 
she  been  alive  and  very  hungry. 

The  houses  of  the  two  captains  were  not 
very  far  apart,  and  they  were  good  neighbors, 
often  smoking  their  pipes  together  and  talk 
ing  of  the  sea.  But  this  was  always  on  the 
little  porch  in  front  of  Captain  Cephas's 
house,  or  by  his  kitchen  fire  in  the  winter. 
Captain  Eli  did  not  like  the  smell  of  tobacco- 
smoke  in  his  house,  or  even  in  front  of  it  in 
summer-time,  when  the  doors  were  open. 
He  had  no  objection  himself  to  the  odor  of 
tobacco,  but  it  was  contrary  to  the  principles 
of  woman-housekeeping  that  rooms  should 
smell  of  it,  and  he  was  always  true  to  those 
principles. 

It  was  late  in  a  certain  December,  and 
through  the  village  there  was  a  pleasant 
little  flutter  of  Christmas  preparations.  Cap 
tain  Eli  had  been  up  to  the  store,  and  he  had 
stayed  there  a  good  while,  warming  himself 
by  the  stove,  and  watching  the  women  com 
ing  in  to  buy  things  for  Christmas.  It  was 
strange  how  many  things  they  bought  for 


178  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

presents  or  for  holiday  use — fancy  soap  and 
candy,  handkerchiefs  and  little  woollen  shawls 
for  old  people,  and  a  lot  of  pretty  little  things 
which  he  knew  the  use  of,  but  which  Captain 
Cephas  would  never  have  understood  at  all 
had  he  been  there. 

As  Captain  Eli  came  out  of  the  store  he 
saw  a  cart  in  which  were  two  good-sized 
Christmas-trees  which  had  been  cut  in  the 
woods,  and  were  going,  one  to  Captain 
Holmes's  house,  and  the  other  to  Mother 
Nelson's.  Captain  Holmes  had  grandchil 
dren,  and  Mother  Nelson,  with  never  a  child 
of  her  own,  good  old  soul,  had  three  little 
orphan  nieces  who  never  wanted  for  any 
thing  needful  at  Christmas-time,  or  any  other 
time. 

Captain  Eli  walked  home  very  slowly, 
taking  observations  in  his  mind.  It  was 
more  than  seven  years  since  he  had  had  any 
thing  to  do  with  Christmas,  except  that  on 
that  day  he  had  always  made  himself  a 
mince-pie,  the  construction  and  the  con 
sumption  of  which  were  equally  difficult.  It 
is  true  that  neighbors  had  invited  him,  and 
they  had  invited  Captain  Cephas,  to  their 
Christmas  dinners,  but  neither  of  these 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR  179 

worthy  seamen  had  ever  accepted  any  of 
these  invitations.  Even  holiday  food,  when 
not  cooked  in  sailor  fashion,  did  not  agree 
with  Captain  Cephas,  and  it  would  have 
pained  the  good  heart  of  Captain  Eli  if  he 
had  been  forced  to  make  believe  to  enjoy  a 
Christmas  dinner  so  very  inferior  to  those 
which  Miranda  used  to  set  before  him. 

But  now  the  heart  of  Captain  Eli  was 
gently  moved  by  a  Christmas  flutter.  It  had 
been  foolish,  perhaps,  for  him  to  go  up  to 
the  store  at  such  a  time  as  this,  but  the  mis 
chief  had  been  done.  Old  feelings  had  come 
back  to  him,  and  he  would  be  glad  to  cele 
brate  Christmas  this  year  if  he  could  think 
of  any  good  way  to  do  it ;  and  the  result  of 
his  mental  observations  was  that  he  went 
over  to  Captain  Cephas's  house  to  talk  to 
him  about  it. 

Captain  Cephas  was  in  his  kitchen,  smok 
ing  his  third  morning  pipe.  Captain  Eli 
filled  his  pipe,  lighted  it,  and  sat  down  by 
the  fire. 

"  Cap'n,"  said  he,  "  what  do  you  say  to  our 
keepin'  Christmas  this  year?  A  Christmas 
dinner  is  no  good  if  it's  got  to  be  eat  alone, 
and  you  and  me  might  eat  ourn  together.  It 


180  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

might  be  in  my  house,  or  it  might  be  in  your 
house ;  it  won't  make  no  great  difference  to 
me,  which.  Of  course,  I  like  woman  house 
keeping  as  is  laid  down  in  the  rules  of  ser 
vice  for  my  house ;  but  next  best  to  that  I 
like  sailor  housekeeping  so  I  don't  mind 
which  house  the  dinner  is  in,  Cap'n  Cephas, 
so  it  suits  you." 

Captain  Cephas  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth.  "You're  pretty  late  thinkin'  about 
it,"  said  he,  "for  day  after  to-morrow's 
Christmas." 

"  That  don't  make  no  difference,"  said  Cap 
tain  Eli.  "  What  things  we  want  that  are 
not  in  my  house  or  your  house  we  can  easily 
get  either  up  at  the  store  or  else  in  the 
woods." 

"  In  the  woods !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Ce 
phas.  "  What  in  the  name  of  thunder  do  you 
expect  to  get  in  the  woods  for  Christmas  ?  " 

"  A  Christmas-tree,"  said  Captain  Eli.  "  I 
thought  it  might  be  a  nice  thing  to  have 
a  Christmas-tree  for  Christmas.  Captain 
Holmes  has  got  one,  and  Mother  Nelson's 
got  another.  I  guess  nearly  everybody's 
got  one.  It  won't  cost  anything — I  can  go 
and  cut  it." 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR  181 

Captain  Cephas  grinned  a  grin,  as  if  a  great 
leak  had  been  sprung  in  the  side  of  a  vessel, 
stretching  nearly  from  stem  to  stern. 

"  A  Christmas-tree  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  "Well, 
I  am  blessed  !  But  look  here,  Cap'n  Eli ;  you 
don't  know  what  a  Christmas-tree's  fer ;  it's 
fer  children,  and  not  fer  grown-ups.  Nobody 
ever  does  have  a  Christmas-tree  in  any  house 
where  there  ain't  no  children." 

Captain  Eli  rose  and  stood  with  his  back 
to  the  fire.  "  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  guess  it's  so ;  and  when  I  come  to 
think  of  it,  a  Christmas  isn't  much  of  a 
Christmas,  anyway,  without  children." 

"  You  never  had  none,"  said  Captain  Ce 
phas,  "  and  you've  kept  Christmas." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Captain  Eli,  reflectively ; 
"  we  did  do  it,  but  there  was  always  a  lack- 
ment — Miranda  has  said  so,  and  I  have  said 
so." 

"  You  didn't  have  no  Christmas-tree,"  said 
Captain  Cephas. 

"  No,  we  didn't ;  but  I  don't  think  that 
folks  was  as  much  set  on  Christmas-trees 
then. as  they  'pear  to  be  now.  I  wonder,"  he 
continued,  thoughtfully  gazing  at  the  ceiling, 
"  if  we  was  to  fix  up  a  Christmas-tree— and 


182     CAPTAIN  ELP8  BEST  EAR 

you  and  me's  got  a  lot  of  pretty  things  that 
we've  picked  up  all  over  the  world,  that  would 
go  miles  ahead  of  anything  that  could  be 
bought  at  the  store  for  Christmas-trees — if 
we  was  to  fix  up  a  tree,  real  nice,  if  we 
couldn't  get  some  child  or  other  that  wasn't 
likely  to  have  a  tree  to  come  in  and  look  at 
it,  and  stay  awhile,  and  make  Christmas  more 
like  Christmas ;  and  then  when  it  went  away 
it  could  take  along  the  things  that  was  hang- 
in'  on  the  tree,  and  keep  'em  for  its  own." 

"That  wouldn't  work,"  said  Captain  Ce 
phas.  "  If  you  get  a  child  into  this  business, 
you  must  let  it  hang  up  its  stockin'  before  it 
goes  to  bed,  and  find  it  full  in  the  mornin', 
and  then  tell  it  an  all-fired  lie  about  Santa 
Claus  if  it  asks  any  questions.  Most  children 
think  more  of  stockin's  than  they  do  of  trees ; 
so  I've  heard,  at  least." 

"  I've  got  no  objections  to  stockin's,"  said 
Captain  Eli.  "  If  it  wanted  to  hang  one  up, 
it  could  hang  one  up  either  here  or  in  my 
house,  wherever  we  kept  Christmas." 

"  You  couldn't  keep  a  child  all  night,"  sar 
donically  remarked  Captain  Cephas,  "  and  no 
more  could  I ;  for  if  it  was  to  get  up  a  croup 
in  the  night,  it  would  be  as  if  we  was  on 


CAPTAIN  ELTS  BEST  EAR  183 

a  lee  shore  with  anchors  draggin'  and  d  gale 
a-blowin'." 

"That's  so,"  said  Captain  Eli;  "you've 
put  it  fair.  I  suppose  if  we  did  keep  a  child 
all  night,  we'd  have  to  have  some  sort  of  a 
woman  within  hail  in  case  of  a  sudden  blow." 

Captain  Cephas  sniffed.  "  What's  the  good 
of  talkin'  ?  "  said  he.  "  There  ain't  no  child, 
and  there  ain't  no  woman  that  you  could  hire 
to  sit  all  night  on  my  front  step  or  on  your 
front  step  a-waitin'  to  be  piped  on  deck  in 
case  of  croup." 

"  No,"  sakl  Captain  Eli.  "  I  don't  suppose 
there's  any  child  in  this  village  that  ain't 
goin'  to  be  provided  with  a  Christmas-tree  or 
a  Christmas-stockin',  or  perhaps  both,  except, 
now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  that  little  gal  that 
was  brought  down  here  with  her  mother  last 
summer,  and  has  been  kept  by  Mrs.  Crumley 
sence  her  mother  died." 

"And  won't  be  kept  much  longer,"  said 
Captain  Cephas  ;  "  for  I've  Learn  Mrs.  Crum 
ley  say  she  couldn't  afford  it." 

"  That's  so,'  said  Captain  Eli.  "  If  she 
can't  afford  to  keep  the  little  gal,  she  can't 
afford  to  give  no  Christmas-trees  nor  stock- 
in's ;  and  so  it  seems  to  me,  Cap'n,  that  that 


184:  CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR 

little  gal  would  be  a  pretty  good  child  to  help 
ns  keep  Christmas." 

"  You're  all  the  time  forgettin',"  said  the 
other,  "that  nuther  of  us  can  keep  a  child 
all  night." 

Captain  Eli  seated  himself,  and  looked 
ponderingly  into  the  fire.  "You're  right, 
Cap'n,"  said  he;  "we'd  have  to  ship  some 
woman  to  take  care  of  her.  Of  course,  it 
wouldn't  be  no  use  to  ask  Mrs.  Crumley?" 

Captain  Cephas  laughed.  "  I  should  say 
not." 

"  And  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  anybody 
else,"  said  his  companion.  "Can  you  think 
of  anybody,  Cap'n?" 

"There  ain't  anybody  to  think  of,"  replied 
Captain  Cephas,  "  unless  it  might  be  Eliza 
Trimmer ;  she's  generally  ready  enough  to 
do  anything  that  turns  up.  But  she  wouldn't 
be  no  good — her  house  is  too  far  away  for 
either  you  or  me  to  hail  her  in  case  a  croup 
came  up  suddint." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Captain  Eli  ;  "  she  does 
live  a  long  way  off." 

"  So  that  settles  the  whole  business,"  said 
Captain  Cephas.  "  She's  too  far  away  to 
come  if  wanted,  and  nuther  of  us  couldn't 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR  185 

keep  no  child  without  somebody  to  come  if 
they  was  wanted,  and  it's  no  use  to  have  a 
Christmas-tree  without  a  child.  A  Christmas 
without  a  Christmas-tree  don't  seem  agree 
able  to  you,  Cap'n,  so  I  guess  we'd  better 
get  along  just  the  same  as  we've  been  in  the 
habit  of  doin',  and  eat  our  Christmas  din 
ner,  as  we  do  our  other  meals,  in  our  own 
houses." 

Captain  Eli  looked  into  the  fire.  "  I  don't 
like  to  give  up  things  if  I  can  help  it.  That 
was  always  my  way.  If  wind  and  tide's 
ag'in'  me,  I  can  wait  till  one  or  the  other,  or 
both  of  them,  serve." 

"  Yes,"  said  Captain  Cephas  ;  "  you  was 
always  that  kind  of  a  man." 

"  That's  so.  But  it  does  'pear  to  me  as  if 
I'd  have  to  give  up  this  time  ;  though  it's  a 
pity  to  do  it,  on  account  of  the  little  gal,  for 
she  ain't  likely  to  have  any  Christmas  this 
year.  She's  a  nice  little  gal,  and  takes  as 
natural  to  navigation  as  if  she'd  been  born 
at  sea.  I've  given  her  two  or  three  things 
because  she's  so  pretty,  but  there's  nothin' 
she  likes  so  much  as  a  little  ship  I  gave  her." 

"  Perhaps  she  was  born  at  sea,"  remarked 
Captain  Cephas. 


186     CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

"  Perhaps  she  was,"  said  the  other  ;  "  and 
that  makes  it  the  bigger  pity." 

For  a  few  moments  nothing  was  said. 
Then  Captain  Eli  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  I'll 
tell  you  what  we  might  do,  Cap'n  ;  we  might 
ask  Mrs.  Trimmer  to  lend  a  hand  in  givin'  the 
little  gal  a  Christmas.  She  ain't  got  nobody 
in  her  house  but  herself,  and  I  guess  she'd  be 
glad  enough  to  help  give  that  little  gal  a  regu 
lar  Christmas.  She  could  go  and  get  the  child 
and  bring  her  to  your  house  or  to  my  house, 
or  wherever  we're  goiii'  to  keep  Christmas, 
and— 

"  Well,"  said  Captain  Cephas,  with  an  air 
of  scrutinizing  inquiry,  "  what  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  the  other,  a  little  hesitat 
ingly,  "  so  far  as  I'm  concerned — that  is,  I 
don't  mind  one  way  or  the  other — she  might 
take  her  Christmas  dinner  along  with  us  and 
the  little  gal,  and  then  she  could  fix  her  stock- 
in'  to  be  hung  up,  and  help  with  the  Christ 
mas  tree,  and " 

"  Well,"  demanded  Captain  Cephas, "  what  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Captain  Eli,  "she  could— that 

is,  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me  one 

way  or  the  other — she  might  stay  all  night  at 

whatever  house  we  kept  Christmas  in,  and 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          187 

then  you  and  me  might  spend  the  night  in 
the  other  house,  and  then  she  could  be  ready 
there  to  help  the  child  in  the  mornin',  when 
she  came  to  look  at  her  stockin'." 

Captain  Cephas  fixed  upon  his  friend  an 
earnest  glare.  "  That's  pretty  considerable 
of  an  idea  to  come  upon  you  so  suddint,"  said 
he ;  "  but  I  can  tell  you  one  thing  :  there  ain't 
a-goin'  to  be  any  such  doin's  in  my  house.  If 
you  choose  to  come  over  here  to  sleep,  and 
give  up  your  house  to  any  woman  you  can 
find  to  take  care  of  the  little  gal,  all  right ; 
but  the  thing  can't  be  done  here." 

There  was  a  certain  severity  in  these  re 
marks,  but  they  appeared  to  affect  Captain 
Eli  very  pleasantly. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "if  you're  satisfied,  I  am. 
I'll  agree  to  any  plan  you  choose  to  make.  It 
doesn't  matter  to  me  which  house  it's  in,  and 
if  you  say  my  house,  I  say  my  house  ;  all  I 
want  is  to  make  the  business  agreeable  to  all 
concerned.  Now  it's  time  for  me  to  go  to  my 
dinner  ;  and  this  afternoon  we'd  better  go  and 
try  to  get  things  straightened  out,  because 
the  little  gal,  and  whatever  woman  comes 
with  her,  ought  io  be  at  my  house  to-morrow 
before  dark.  S'posin'  we  divide  up  this  busi- 


188  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

ness  :  I'll  go  and  see  Mrs.  Crumley  about  the 
little  gal,  and  you  can  go  and  see  Mrs.  Trim 
mer." 

"No,  sir,"  promptly  replied  Captain  Cephas, 
"  I  don't  go  to  see  no  Mrs.  Trimmer.  You 
can  see  both  of  them  just  the  same  as  you 
can  see  one — they're  all  along  the  same  way. 
I'll  go  cut  the  Christmas-tree." 

"All  right,"  said  Captain  Eli;  "it  don't 
make  no  difference  to  me  which  does  which  ; 
but  if  I  was  you,  Cap'n,  I'd  cut  a  good  big 
tree,  because  we  might  as  well  have  a  good 
one  while  we're  about  it." 

When  he  had  eaten  his  dinner  and  washed 
up  his  dishes,  and  had  put  everything  away 
in  neat,  housewifely  order,  Captain  Eli  went 
to  Mrs.  Crumley's  house,  and  very  soon  fin 
ished  his  business  there.  Mrs.  Crumley  kept 
the  only  house  which  might  be  considered  a 
boarding-house  in  the  village  of  Sponkannis ; 
and  when  she  had  consented  to  take  charge 
of  the  little  girl  who  had  been  left  on  her 
hands  she  had  hoped  it  would  not  be  very 
long  before  she  would  hear  from  some  of  her 
relatives  in  regard  to  her  maintenance.  But 
she  had  heard  nothing,  and  had  now  ceased 
to  expect  to  hear  anything,  and  in  conse- 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          189 

quence  had  frequently  remarked  that  she  must 
dispose  of  the  child  some  way  or  other,  for 
she  couldn't  afford  to  keep  her  any  longer. 
Even  an  absence  of  a  day  or  two  at  the  house 
of  the  good  captain  would  be  some  relief,  and 
Mrs.  Crumley  readily  consented  to  the  Christ 
mas  scheme.  As  to  the  little  girl,  she  was  de 
lighted.  She  already  looked  upon  Captain 
Eli  as  her  best  friend  in  the  world. 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  go  to  Mrs.  Trimmer's 
house  and  put  the  business  before  her.  "  It 
ought  to  be  plain  sailin'  enough,"  Captain  Eli 
said  to  himself,  over  and  over  again ;  "  but 
for  all  that  it  don't  seem  to  be  plain  sailin'." 

But  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  deterred  by 
difficult  navigation,  and  he  walked  straight 
to  Eliza  Trimmer's  house. 

Mrs.  Trimmer  was  a  comely  woman,  about 
thirty-five,  who  had  come  to  the  village  a 
year  before,  and  had  maintained  herself,  or 
at  least,  had  tried  to,  by  dressmaking  and 
plain  sewing.  She  had  lived  at  Stetford,  a 
seaport  about  twenty  miles  away,  and  from 
there,  three  years  before,  her  husband,  Cap 
tain  Trimmer,  had  sailed  away  in  a  good- 
sized  schooner,  and  had  never  returned.  She 
had  come  to  Sponkannis  because  she  thought 


190  CAPTAIN  ELP8  BEST  EAR 

that  there  she  could  live  cheaper  and  get 
more  work  than  in  her  former  home.  She 
had  found  the  first  quite  possible,  but  her 
success  in  regard  to  the  work  had  not  been 
very  great. 

When  Captain  Eli  entered  Mrs.  Trimmer's 
little  room,  he  found  her  busy  mending  a  sail. 
Here  fortune  favored  him.  "  You  turn  your 
hand  to  'most  anything,  Mrs.  Trimmer,"  said 
he,  after  he  had  greeted  her. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  with  a  smile  ;  "  I 
am  obliged  to  do  that.  Mending  sails  is 
pretty  heavy  work,  but  it's  better  than 
nothing." 

"  I  had  a  notion,"  said  he,  "  that  you  was 
ready  to  turn  your  hand  to  any  good  kind  of 
business,  so  I  thought  I  would  step  in  and 
ask  you  if  you'd  turn  your  hand  to  a  little  bit 
of  business  I've  got  on  the  stocks." 

She  stopped  sewing  on  the  sail,  and  lis 
tened  while  Captain  Eli  laid  his  plan  before 
her.  "  It's  very  kind  in  you  and  Captain 
Cephas  to  think  of  all  that,"  said  she.  "  I 
have  often  noticed  that  poor  little  girl,  and 
pitied  her.  Certainly  I'll  come,  and  you 
needn't  say  anything  about  paying  me  for  it. 
I  wouldn't  think  of  asking  to  be  paid  for  do- 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR  191 

ing  a  thing  like  that.  And  besides" — she 
smiled  again  as  she  spoke —  "  if  you  are  go 
ing  to  give  me  a  Christmas  dinner,  as  you 
say,  that  will  make  things  more  than  square." 

Captain  Eli  did  not  exactly  agree  with  her ; 
but  he  was  in  very  good  humor,  and  she  was 
in  good  humor,  and  the  matter  was  soon  set 
tled,  and  Mrs.  Trimmer  promised  to  come  to 
the  captain's  house  in  the  morning  and  help 
about  the  Christmas-tree,  and  in  the  afternoon 
to  go  to  get  the  little  girl  from  Mrs.  Crumley's 
and  bring  her  to  the  house. 

Captain  Eli  was  delighted  with  the  arrange 
ments.  "  Things  now  seem  to  be  goin'  along 
before  a  spankin'  breeze,"  said  he.  "  But  I 
don't  know  about  the  dinner;  I  guess  you 
will  have  to  leave  that  to  me.  I  don't  believe 
Captain  Cephas  could  eat  a  woman-cooked 
dinner.  He's  accustomed  to  livin'  sailor 
fashion,  you  know,  and  he  has  declared  over 
and  over  again  to  me  that  woman-cookin' 
doesn't  agree  with  him." 

"  But  I  can  cook  sailor  fashion,"  said  Mrs. 
Trimmer —  "  just  as  much  sailor  fashion  as 
you  or  Captain  Cephas ;  and  if  he  don't  be 
lieve  it,  I'll  prove  it  to  him ;  so  you  needn't 
worry  about  that." 


192  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

When  the  Captain  had  gone,  Mrs.  Trimmer 
gayly  put  away  the  sail.  There  was  no  need 
to  finish  it  in  a  hurry,  and  no  knowing  when 
she  would  get  her  money  for  it  when  it  was 
done.  No  one  had  asked  her  to  a  Christmas 
dinner  that  year,  and  she  had  expected  to 
have  a  lonely  time  of  it ;  but  it  would  be  very 
pleasant  to  spend  Christmas  with  the  little 
girl  and  the  two  good  captains.  Instead  of 
sewing  any  more  on  the  sail,  she  got  out  some 
of  her  own  clothes  to  see  if  they  needed  any 
thing  done  to  them. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Trimmer  went  to 
Captain  Eli's  house,  and  finding  Captain  Ce 
phas  there,  they  all  set  to  work  at  the  Christ 
mas-tree,  which  was  a  very  fine  one,  and  had 
been  planted  in  a  box.  Captain  Cephas  had 
brought  over  a  bundle  of  things  from  his 
house,  and  Captain  Eli  kept  running  here  and 
there,  bringing  each  time  that  he  returned 
some  new  object,  wonderful  or  pretty,  which 
he  had  brought  from  China  or  Japan  or  Korea, 
or  some  spicy  island  of  the  Eastern  seas,  and 
nearly  every  time  he  came  with  these  treasures 
Mrs.  Trimmer  declared  that  these  things  were 
too  good  to  put  upon  a  Christmas-tree,  even 
for  such  a  nice  little  girl  as  the  one  for  which 


CAPTAIN  CEPHAS   HAD   BROUGHT   OVER   A   BUNDLE   OF   THINGS. 


CAPTAIN  ELfS  BEST  EAR          193 

that  tree  was  intended.  The  presents  which 
Captain  Cephas  brought  were  much  more 
suitable  for  the  purpose :  they  were  odd 
and  funny,  and  some  of  them  pretty,  but 
not  expensive,  as  were  the  fans  and  bits 
of  shell-work  and  carved  ivories  which  Cap 
tain  Eli  wished  to  tie  upon  the  twigs  of 
the  tree. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  all 
this,  but  Captain  Eli  had  his  own  way. 

"  I  don't  suppose,  after  all,"  said  he,  "  that 
the  little  gal  ought  to  have  all  the  things. 
This  is  such  a  big  tree  that  it's  more  like  a 
family  tree.  Cap'n  Cephas  can  take  some  of 
my  things,  and  I  can  take  some  of  his  things, 
and,  Mrs.  Trimmer,  if  there's  anything  you 
like,  you  can  call  it  your  present,  and  take 
it  for  your  own ;  so  that  will  be  fair  and  com 
fortable  all  round.  What  I  want  is  to  make 
everybody  satisfied." 

"  I'm  sure  I  think  they  ought  to  be,"  said 
Mrs.  Trimmer,  looking  very  kindly  at  Cap 
tain  Eli. 

Mrs.  Trimmer  went  home  to  her  own  house 
to  dinner,  and  in  the  afternoon  she  brought 
the  little  girl.  She  had  said  there  ought  to 
be  an  early  supper,  so  that  the  child  would 


194  CAPTAIN  ELfS  BEST  EAR 

have  time  to  enjoy  the  Christmas-tree  before 
she  became  sleepy. 

This  meal  was  prepared  entirely  by  Cap 
tain  Eli,  and  in  sailor  fashion,  not  woman 
fashion,  so  that  Captain  Cephas  could  make 
no  excuse  for  eating  his  supper  at  home.  Of 
course  they  all  ought  to  be  together  the  whole 
of  that  Christmas  eve.  As  for  the  big  dinner 
on  the  morrow,  that  was  another  affair,  for 
Mrs.  Trimmer  undertook  to  make  Captain 
Cephas  understand  that  she  had  always 
cooked  for  Captain  Trimmer  in  sailor  fashion, 
and  if  he  objected  to  her  plum-duff,  or  if  any 
body  else  objected  to  her  mince-pie,  she  was 
going  to  be  very  much  surprised. 

Captain  Cephas  ate  his  supper  with  a  good 
relish,  and  was  still  eating  when  the  rest  had 
finished.  As  to  the  Christmas-tree,  it  was 
the  most  valuable,  if  not  the  most  beautiful, 
that  had  ever  been  set  up  in  that  region.  It 
had  no  candles  upon  it,  but  was  lighted  by 
three  lamps  and  a  ship's  lantern,  placed  in  the 
four  corners  of  the  room,  and  the  little  girl 
was  as  happy  as  if  the  tree  were  decorated 
with  little  dolls  and  glass  balls.  Mrs.  Trim 
mer  was  intensely  pleased  and  interested  to 
see  the  child  so  happy,  and  Captain  Eli  was 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          195 

much  pleased  and  interested  to  see  the  child 
and  Mrs.  Trimmer  so  happy,  and  Captain 
Cephas  was  interested,  and  perhaps  a  little 
amused  in  a  superior  fashion,  to  see  Captain 
Eli  and  Mrs.  Trimmer  and  the  little  child  so 
happy. 

Then  the  distribution  of  the  presents  be 
gan.  Captain  Eli  asked  Captain  Cephas  if 
he  might  have  the  wooden  pipe  that  the  lat 
ter  had  brought  for  his  present.  Captain  Ce 
phas  said  he  might  take  it,  for  all  he  cared, 
and  be  welcome  to  it.  Then  Captain  Eli 
gave  Captain  Cephas  a  red  bandanna  hand 
kerchief  of  a  very  curious  pattern,  and  Cap 
tain  Cephas  thanked  him  kindly.  After 
which  Captain  Eli  bestowed  upon  Mrs.  Trim 
mer  a  most  beautiful  tortoise-shell  comb, 
carved  and  cut  and  polished  in  a  wonderful 
way,  and  with  it  he  gave  a  tortoise-shell  fan, 
carved  in  the  same  fashion,  because  he  said 
the  two  things  seemed  to  belong  to  each 
other  and  ought  to  go  together ;  and  he  would 
not  listen  to  one  word  of  what  Mrs.  Trimmer 
said  about  the  gifts  being  too  good  for 
her,  and  that  she  was  not  likely  ever  to 
use  them. 

"  It   seems   to  me,"  said  Captain  Cephas, 


196  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAtt 

"  that  you  might  be  giving  something  to  the 
little  gal." 

Then  Captain  Eli  remembered  that  the 
child  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  and  her  soul 
was  lifted  into  ecstasy  by  many  gifts,  some 
of  which  Mrs.  Trimmer  declared  were  too 
good  for  any  child  in  this  wide,  wide  world  ; 
but  Captain  Eli  answered  that  they  could  be 
taken  care  of  by  somebody  until  the  little  girl 
was  old  enough  to  know  their  value. 

Then  it  was  discovered  that,  unbeknown  to 
anybody  else,  Mrs.  Trimmer  had  put  some 
presents  on  the  tree,  which  were  things  which 
had  been  brought  by  Captain  Trimmer  from 
somewhere  in  the  far  East  or  the  distant 
West.  These  she  bestowed  upon  Captain 
Cephas  and  Captain  Eli,  and  the  end  of  all 
this  was  that  in  the  whole  of  Sponkannis, 
from  the  foot  of  the  bluff  to  the  east,  to  the 
very  last  house  on  the  shore  to  the  west, 
there  was  not  one  Christmas  eve  party  so 
happy  as  this  one. 

Captain  Cephas  was  not  quite  so  happy  as 
the  three  others  were,  but  he  was  very  much 
interested.  About  nine  o'clock  the  party 
broke  up,  and  the  two  captains  put  on  their 
caps  and  buttoned  up  their  pea-jackets,  and 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          197 

started  for  Captain  Cephas's  house ;  but  not  be 
fore  Captain  Eli  had  carefully  fastened  every 
window  and  every  door  except  the  front  door, 
and  had  told  Mrs.  Trimmer  how  to  fasten 
that  when  they  had  gone,  and  had  given  her 
a  boatswain's  whistle,  which  she  might  blow 
out  of  the  window  if  there  should  be  a  sudden 
croup,  and  it  should  be  necessary  for  anyone 
to  go  anywhere.  He  was  sure  he  could  hear 
it,  for  the  wind  was  exactly  right  for  him  to 
hear  a  whistle  from  his  house.  When  they 
had  gone  Mrs.  Trimmer  put  the  little  girl  to 
bed,  and  was  delighted  to  find  in  what  a 
wonderfully  neat  and  womanlike  fashion  that 
house  was  kept. 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  that  night 
when  Captain  Eli,  sleeping  in  his  bunk  oppo 
site  that  of  Captain  Cephas,  was  aroused  by 
hearing  a  sound.  He  had  been  lying  with 
his  best  ear  uppermost,  so  that  he  should 
hear  anything  if  there  happened  to  be  any 
thing  to  hear ;  and  he  did  hear  something, 
but  it  was  not  a  boatswain's  whistle.  It  was 
a  prolonged  cry,  and  it  seemed  to  come  from 
the  sea. 

In  a  moment  Captain  Eli  was  sitting  on  the 
side  of  his  bunk,  listening  intently.  Again 


198  CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR 

came  the  cry.  The  window  toward  the  sea 
was  slightly  open,  and  he  heard  it  plainly. 

"  Cap'n  !  "  said  he,  and  at  the  word  Captain 
Cephas  was  sitting  on  the  side  of  his  bunk, 
listening.  He  knew  from  his  companion's 
attitude,  plainly  visible  in  the  light  of  a  lan 
tern  which  hung  on  a  hook  at  the  other  end 
of  the  room,  that  he  had  been  awakened  to 
listen.  Again  came  the  cry. 

"  That's  distress  at  sea,"  said  Captain  Ce 
phas.  "  Harken  ! " 

They  listened  again  for  nearly  a  minute, 
when  the  cry  was  repeated. 

"  Bounce  on  deck,  boys  !  "  said  Captain  Ce 
phas,  getting  out  on  the  floor.  "  There's 
some  one  in  distress  offshore." 

Captain  Eli  jumped  to  the  floor,  and  began 
to  dress  quickly. 

"  It  couldn't  be  a  call  from  land?  "  he  asked 
hurriedly;  "  It  don't  sound  a  bit  to  you  like 
a  boatswain's  whistle,  does  it  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Captain  Cephas,  disdainfully. 
"  It's  a  call  from  sea."  And  then,  seizing  a 
lantern,  he  rushed  down  the  companionway. 

As  soon  as  he  was  convinced  that  it  was  a 
call  from  sea,  Captain  Eli  was  one  in  feeling 
and  action  with  Captain  Cephas.  The  latter 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          199 

hastily  opened  the  drafts  of  the  kitchen  stove, 
and  put  on  some  wood,  and  by  the  time  this 
was  done  Captain  Eli  had  the  kettle  filled  and 
on  the  stove.  Then  they  clapped  on  their 
caps  and  their  pea-jackets,  each  took  an  oar 
from  a  corner  in  the  back  hall,  and  together 
they  ran  down  to  the  beach. 

The  night  was  dark,  but  not  very  cold,  and 
Captain  Cephas  had  been  to  the  store  that 
morning  in  his  boat.  Whenever  he  went  to 
the  store,  and  the  weather  permitted,  he 
rowed  there  in  his  boat  rather  than  walk.  At 
the  bow  of  the  boat,  which  was  now  drawn 
up  on  the  sand,  the  two  men  stood  and 
listened.  Again  came  the  cry  from  the  sea. 

"  It's  something  ashore  on  the  Turtle-back 
Shoal,"  said  Captain  Cephas. 

"Yes,"  said  Captain  Eli;  "and  it's  some 
small  craft,  for  that  cry  is  down  pretty  nigh 
to  the  water." 

"  Yes,"  said  Captain  Cephas ;  "  and  there's 
only  one  man  aboard,  or  else  they'd  take 
turns  a-hollerin'." 

"He's  a  stranger,"  said  Captain  Eli,  "or 
he  wouldn't  have  tried,  even  with  a  catboat, 
to  get  in  over  that  shoal  on  ebb-tide." 

As  they  spoke  they  ran  the  boat  out  into 


200  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

the  water  and  jumped  in,  eacli  with  an  oar. 
Then  they  pulled  for  the  Turtle-back  Shoal. 

Although  these  two  captains  were  rnen  of 
fifty  or  thereabout,  they  were  as  strong  and 
tough  as  any  young  fellows  in  the  village,  and 
they  pulled  with  steady  strokes,  and  sent  the 
heavy  boat  skimming  over  the  water,  not  in  a 
straight  line  toward  the  Turtle-back  Shoal, 
but  now  a  few  points  in  the  darkness  this 
way,  and  now  a  few  points  in  the  darkness 
that  way,  then  with  a  great  curve  to  the  south 
through  the  dark  night,  keeping  always  near 
the  middle  of  the  only  good  channel  out  of 
the  bay  when  the  tide  was  ebbing. 

Now  the  cries  from  seaward  had  ceased, 
but  the  two  captains  were  not  discouraged. 

"  He's  heard  the  thumpin'  of  our  oars," 
said  Captain  Cephas. 

"  He's  listenin',  and  he'll  sing  out  again  if 
he  thinks  we're  goin'  wrong,"  said  Captain 
Eli ;  "  of  course  he  don't  know  anything  about 
that." 

And  so  when  they  made  the  sweep  to  the 
south  the  cry  came  again,  and  Captain  Eli 
grinned.  "  We  needn't  to  spend  no  breath 
hollerin',"  said  he  ;  "  he'll  hear  us  makin'  for 
him  in  a  minute." 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          201 

When  they  came  to  head  for  the  Shoal  they 
lay  on  their  oars  for  a  moment  while  Captain 
Cephas  turned  the  lantern  in  the  bow,  so  that 
its  light  shone  out  ahead.  He  had  not  wanted 
the  shipwrecked  person  to  see  the  light  when 
it  would  seem  as  if  the  boat  were  rowing 
away  from  him.  He  had  heard  of  castaway 
people  who  would  get  so  wild  when  they 
imagined  that  a  ship  or  boat  was  going  away 
from  them  that  they  would  jump  overboard. 

When  the  two  captains  reached  the  shoal, 
they  found  there  a  catboat  aground,  with  one 
man  aboard.  His  tale  was  quickly  told. 
He  had  expected  to  run  into  the  little  bay 
that  afternoon,  but  the  wind  had  fallen,  and 
in  trying  to  get  in  after  dark,  and  being  a 
stranger,  he  had  run  aground.  If  he  had  not 
been  so  cold,  he  said,  he  would  have  been 
willing  to  stay  there  till  the  tide  rose  ;  but  he 
was  getting  chilled,  and  seeing  a  light  not 
far  away,  he  concluded  to  call  for  help  as 
long  as  his  voice  held  out. 

The  two  captains  did  not  ask  many  ques 
tions.  They  helped  anchor  the  catboat,  and 
then  they  took  the  man  on  their  boat  and 
rowed  him  to  shore.  He  was  getting  chilled 
sitting  out  there  doing  nothing,  and  so  when 


202  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

they  reached  the  house  they  made  him  some 
hot  grog,  and  promised  in  the  morning,  when 
the  tide  rose,  they  would  go  out  and  help 
him  bring  his  boat  in.  Then  Captain  Cephas 
showed  the  stranger  to  a  bunk,  and  they  all 
went  to  bed.  Such  experiences  had  not 
enough  of  novelty  to  the  good  captains  to 
keep  them  awake  five  minutes. 

In  the  morning  they  were  all  up  very  early, 
and  the  stranger,  who  proved  to  be  a  seafar 
ing  man  with  bright  blue  eyes,  said  that,  as 
his  catboat  seemed  to  be  riding  all  right  at 
its  anchorage,  he  did  not  care  to  go  out  after 
her  just  yet.  Any  time  during  flood-tide 
would  do  for  him,  and  he  had  some  business 
that  he  wanted  to  attend  to  as  soon  as  pos 
sible. 

This  suited  the  two  captains  very  well,  for 
they  wished  to  be  on  hand  when  the  little 
girl  discovered  her  stocking. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  said  the  stranger,  as 
he  put  on  his  cap,  "  where  I  can  find  a  Mrs. 
Trimmer,  who  lives  in  this  village  ?  " 

At  these  words  all  the  sturdy  stiffness 
which,  from  his  youth  up,  had  characterized 
the  legs  of  Captain  Eli  entirely  went  out  of 
them,  and  he  sat  suddenly  upon  a  bench. 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          203 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  silence ;  then 
Captain  Cephas,  who  thought  some  answer 
should  be  made  to  the  question,  nodded  his 
head. 

"  I  want  to  see  her  as  soon  I  as  can,"  said 
the  stranger.  "  I  have  come  to  see  her  on 
particular  business  that  will  be  a  surprise  to 
her.  I  wanted  to  be  here  before  Christmas 
began,  and  that's  the  reason  I  took  that  cat- 
boat  from  Stetford,  because  I  thought  I'd 
come  quicker  that  way  than  by  land.  But 
the  wind  fell,  as  I  told  you.  If  either  one  of 
you  would  be  good  enough  to  pilot  me  to 
where  Mrs.  Trimmer  lives,  or  to  any  point 
where  I  can  get  a  sight  of  the  place,  I'd  be 
obliged." 

Captain  Eli  rose,  and  with  hurried  but  un 
steady  steps  went  into  the  house  (for  they 
had  been  upon  the  little  piazza),  and  beckoned 
to  his  friend  to  follow.  The  two  men  stood 
in  the  kitchen  and  looked  at  each  other. 
The  face  of  Captain  Eli  was  of  the  hue  of  a 
clam-shell. 

"  Go  with  him,  Cap'n,"  he  said  in  a  hoarse 
whisper ;  "  I  can't  do  it." 

"To  your  house?  "  inquired  the  other. 

"  Of  course ;  take  him  to  my  house.     There 


204  CAPTAIN  ELfS  BEST  EAR 

ain't  no  other  place  where  she  is.  Take  him 
along." 

Captain  Cephas's  countenance  wore  an  air 
of  the  deepest  concern,  but  he  thought  that 
the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  get  the  stranger 
away. 

As  they  walked  rapidly  toward  Captain 
Eli's  house  there  was  very  little  said  by 
either  Captain  Cephas  or  the  stranger.  The 
latter  seemed  anxious  to  give  Mrs.  Trimmer 
a  surprise,  and  not  to  say  anything  which 
might  enable  another  person  to  interfere  with 
his  project. 

The  two  men  had  scarcely  stepped  upon 
the  piazza  when  Mrs.  Trimmer,  who  had  been 
expecting  early  visitors,  opened  the  door. 
She  was  about  to  call  out  "  Merry  Christmas ! " 
but,  her  eyes  falling  upon  a  stranger,  the 
words  stopped  at  her  lips.  First  she  turned 
red,  then  she  turned  pale,  and  Captain  Ce 
phas  thought  she  was  about  to  fall ;  but  be 
fore  she  could  do  this  the  stranger  had  her 
in  his  arms.  She  opened  her  eyes,  which  for 
a  moment  she  had  closed,  and  gazing  into  his 
face,  she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck. 
Then  Captain  Cephas  came  away,  without 
thinking  of  the  little  girl  and  the  pleasure 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          205 

she  would  have  in  discovering  her  Christmas 
stocking. 

When  he  had  been  left  alone,  Captain  Eli 
sat  down  near  the  kitchen  stove,  close  to  the 
very  kettle  which  he  had  filled  with  water  to 
heat  for  the  benefit  of  the  man  he  had  helped 
bring  in  from  the  sea,  and,  Avith  his  elbows 
on  his  knees  and  his  fingers  in  his  hair,  he 
darkly  pondered. 

"  If  I'd  only  slept  with  my  hard-o'-hearin' 
ear  up,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I'd  never  have 
heard  it." 

In  a  few  moments  his  better  nature  con 
demned  this  thought. 

"That's  next  to  murder,"  he  muttered; 
"for  he  couldn't  have  kept  himself  from 
fallin'  asleep  out  there  in  the  cold  and  when 
the  tide  riz  he  'd  have  been  blowed  out  to  sea 
with  this  wind.  If  I  hadn't  heard  him, 
Captain  Cephas  never  would,  for  he  wasn't 
primed  up  to  wake,  as  I  was." 

But,  notwithstanding  his  better  nature, 
Captain  Eli  was  again  saying  to  himself, 
when  his  friend  returned,  "  If  I'd  only  slept 
with  my  other  ear  up  !  " 

Like  the  honest,  straightforward  mariner 
he  was,  Captain  Cephas  made  an  exact  report 


206  CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR 

of  the  facts.  "  They  was  huggin'  when  I  left 
them,"  he  said,  "  and  I  expect  they  went  in 
doors  pretty  soon,  for  it  was  too  cold  outside. 
It 's  an  all-fired  shame  she  happened  to  be  in 
your  house,  Cap'n  ;  that's  all  I've  got  to  say 
about  it.  It 's  a  thunderin'  shame." 

Captain  Eli  made  no  answer.  He  still  sat 
with  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  his  hands 
in  his  hair. 

"  A  better  course  than  you  laid  down  for 
these  Christmas  times  was  never  dotted  on  a 
chart,"  continued  Captain  Cephas.  "From 
port  of  sailin'  to  port  of  entry  you  laid  it 
down  clear  and  fine ;  but  it  seems  there  was 
rocks  that  wasn't  marked  on  the  chart." 

"Yes,"  groaned  Captain  Eli;  "there  was 
rocks." 

Captain  Cephas  made  no  attempt  to  com 
fort  his  friend,  but  went  to  work  to  get  break 
fast. 

"When  that  meal  —  a  rather  silent  one  — 
was  over,  Captain  Eli  felt  better.  "  There 
was  rocks,"  he  said,  "  and  not  a  breaker  to 
show  where  they  lay,  and  I  struck  'em  bow 
on.  So  that's  the  end  of  that  voyage;  but 
I've  tuk  to  my  boats,  Cap'n,  I've  tuk  to  my 
boats." 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR  207 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you've  tuk  to  your 
boats,"  said  Captain  Cephas,  with  an  approv 
ing  glance  upon  his  friend. 

About  ten  minutes  afterward  Captain  Eli 
said,  "I'm  goin'  up  to  my  house." 

"  By  yourself  ?  "  said  the  other. 

"  Yes,  by  myself ;  I'd  rather  go  alone.  I 
don't  intend  to  mind  anything,  and  I'm  goin* 
to  tell  her  that  she  can  stay  there  and  spend 
Christmas, —  the  place  she  lives  in  ain't  no 
place  to  spend  Christmas, — and  she  can  make 
the  little  gal  have  a  good  time,  and  go  'long 
just  as  we  intended  to  go  'long  —  plum-duff 
and  mince-pie  all  the  same ;  and  I  can  stay 
here,  and  you  and  me  can  have  our  Christ 
mas  dinner  together,  if  we  choose  to  give  it 
that  name.  And  if  she  ain't  ready  to  go  to 
morrow,  she  can  stay  a  day  or  two  longer ; 
it's  all  the  same  to  me,  if  it's  the  same  to 
you,  Cap'n." 

And  Captain  Cephas  having  said  that  it  was 
the  same  to  him,  Captain  Eli  put  on  his  cap 
and  buttoned  up  his  pea-jacket,  declaring 
that  the  sooner  he  got  to  his  house  the  bet 
ter,  as  she  might  be  thinking  that  she  would 
have  to  move  out  of  it  now  that  things  were 
different. 


208  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

Before  Captain  Eli  readied  his  house  he 
saw  something  which  pleased  him.  He  saw 
the  sea-going  stranger,  with  his  back  toward 
him,  walking  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the 
village  store. 

Captain  Eli  quickly  entered  his  house,  and 
in  the  doorway  of  the  room  where  the  tree 
was  he  met  Mrs.  Trimmer,  beaming  brighter 
than  any  morning  sun  that  ever  rose. 

"  Merry  Christmas  !  "  she  exclaimed,  hold 
ing  out  both  her  hands.  "I  've  been  wonder 
ing  and  wondering  when  you  'd  come  to  bid 
me  '  Merry  Christmas '  —  the  merriest  Christ 
mas  I've  ever  had." 

Captain  Eli  took  her  hands  and  bid  her 
"  Merry  Christmas  "  very  gravely.  She  looked 
a  little  surprised.  "  What's  the  matter,  Cap 
tain  Eli  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  don't  seem 
to  say  that  as  if  you  meant  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do,"  he  answered ;  "  this  must 
be  an  all-fired  —  I  mean  a  thumlerin'  happy 
Christmas  for  you,  Mrs.  Trimmer." 

"Yes,"  said  she,  her  face  beaming  again. 
"And  to  think  that  it  should  happen  on 
Christmas-day  —  that  this  blessed  morning, 
before  anything  else  happened,  my  Bob,  my 
only  brother,  should— 


CAPTAIN  ELI'S  BEST  EAR          209 

"  Your  what !  "  roared  Captain  Eli,  as  if  lie 
had  been  shouting  orders  in  a  raging  storm. 

Mrs.  Trimmer  stepped  back  almost  fright 
ened.  "  My  brother,"  said  she.  "Didn't  he 
tell  you  he  was  my  brother  —  my  brother 
Bob,  who  sailed  away  a  year  before  I  was 
married,  and  who  has  been  in  Africa  and 
China  and  I  don't  know  where  ?  It's  so  long 
since  I  heard  that  he'd  gone  into  trading  at 
Singapore  that  I'd  given  him  up  as  married 
and  settled  in  foreign  parts ;  and  here  he  has 
come  to  me  as  if  he'd  tumbled  from  the  sky 
on  this  blessed  Christmas  morning." 

Captain  Eli  made  a  step  forward,  his  face 
very  much  flushed. 

"  Your  brother,  Mrs.  Trimmer  —  did  you 
really  say  it  was  your  brother  ?  " 

"Of  course  it  is,"  said  she.  "Who  else 
could  it  be  ?  "  Then  she  paused  for  a  mo 
ment  and  looked  steadfastly  at  the  captain. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,  Captain  Eli,"  she 
asked,  "  that  you  thought  it  was — 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  said  Captain  Eli,  promptly. 

Mrs.  Trimmer  looked  straight  in  the  cap 
tain's  eyes,  then  she  looked  on  the  ground. 
Then  she  changed  color  and  changed  back 
again. 


210  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

"  I  don't  understand,"  she  said,  hesitating 
ly,  "  why — I  mean  what  difference  it  made." 

"  Difference,"  exclaimed  Captain  Eli.  "  It 
was  all  the  difference  between  a  man  on  deck 
and  a  man  overboard — that's  the  difference  it 
was  to  me.  I  didn't  expect  to  be  talkin'  to 
you  so  early  this  Christmas  mornin',  but 
things  has  been  sprung  on  me,  and  I  can't 
help  it.  I  just  want  to  ask  you  one  thing : 
Did  you  think  I  was  gettin'  up  this  Christ 
mas-tree  and  the  Christmas  dinner  and  the 
whole  business  for  the  good  of  the  little  gal, 
and  for  the  good  of  you,  and  for  the  good  of 
Captain  Cephas  ?  " 

Mrs.  Trimmer  had  now  recovered  a  very 
fair  possession  of  herself.  "  Of  course  I  did," 
she  answered,  looking  up  at  him  as  she  spoke. 
"Who  else  could  it  have  been  for?  " 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  you  were  mistaken.  It 
wasn't  for  any  one  of  you ;  it  was  all  for  me — 
for  my  own  self." 

"  You  yourself  ?  "  said  she.  "  I  don't  see 
how." 

"  But  I  see  how,"  he  answered.  "  It's  been 
a  long  time  since  I  wanted  to  speak  my  mind 
to  you,  Mrs.  Trimmer,  but  I  didn't  ever  have 
no  chance  ;  and  all  these  Christmas  doin's 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          211 

was  got  up  to  give  me  the  chance  not  only  of 
speakin'  to  you,  but  of  showin'  my  colors  bet 
ter  than  I  could  show  them  in  any  other  way ; 
and  everything  went  on  a-skimrnin'  till  this 
mornin',  when  that  stranger  that  we  brought 
in  from  the  shoal  piped  up  and  asked  for 
you.  Then  I  went  overboard — at  least  I 
thought  I  did — and  sunk  down,  down,  clean 
out  of  soundin's." 

"That  was  too  bad,  Captain,"  said  she, 
speaking  very  gently,  "  after  all  your  trouble 
and  kindness." 

"But  I  don't  know  now,"  he  continued, 
"  whether  I  went  overboard  or  Avhether  I  am 
on  deck.  Can  you  tell  me,  Mrs.  Trimmer  ?  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  ;  her  eyes  were  very 
soft,  and  her  lips  trembled  just  a  little.  "  It 
seerns  to  me,  Captain,"  she  said,  "  that  you 
are  on  deck — if  you  want  to  be." 

The  captain  stepped  closer  to  her.  "  Mrs. 
Trimmer,"  said  he,  "  is  that  brother  of  yours 
comin'  back  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  surprised  at  the  sud 
den  question.  "  He's  just  gone  up  to  the 
store  to  buy  a  shirt  and  some  things.  He 
got  himself  splashed  trying  to  push  his  boat 
off  last  night." 


212  CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR 

"Well,  then,"  said  Captain  Eli,  "would 
you  mind  tellin'  him  when  he  comes  back 
that  you  and  me's  engaged  to  be  married? 
I  don't  know  whether  I've  made  a  mistake  in 
the  lights  or  not,  but  would  you  mind  tellin' 
him  that?" 

Mrs.  Trimmer  looked  at  him.  Her  eyes 
were  not  so  soft  as  they  had  been,  but  they 
were  brighter.  "I'd  rather  you'd  tell  him 
that  yourself,"  said  she. 

The  little  girl  sat  on  the  floor  near  the 
Christmas  tree,  just  finishing  a  large  piece  of 
red-and- white  candy  which  she  had  taken  out 
of  her  stocking.  "People  do  hug  a  lot  at 
Christmas-time,"  said  she  to  herself.  Then 
she  drew  out  a  piece  of  blue-and-white  candy 
and  began  on  that. 

Captain  Cephas  waited  a  long  time  for  his 
friend  to  return,  and  at  last  he  thought  it 
would  be  well  to  go  and  look  for  him.  When 
he  entered  the  house  he  found  Mrs.  Trimmer 
sitting  on  the  sofa  in  the. parlor,  with  Captain 
Eli  on  one  side  of  her  and  her  brother  on  the 
other,  and  each  of  them  holding  one  of  her 
hands. 

"It  looks  as  if  I  was  in  port,  don't  it  ?  "  said 
Captain  Eli  to  his  astonished  friend.  "  Well, 


CAPTAIN  ELPS  BEST  EAR          213 

here  I  am,  and  here's  my  fust  mate,"  inclining 
his  head  toward  Mrs.  Trimmer.  "  And  she's 
in  port  too,  safe  and  sound ;  and  that  strange 
captain  on  the  other  side  of  her,  he's  her 
brother  Bob,  who's  been  away  for  years  and 
years,  and  is  just  home  from  Madagascar." 

"  Singapore,"  amended  brother  Bob. 

Captain  Cephas  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  of  the  three  occupants  of  the  sofa,  but 
made  no  immediate  remark.  Presently  a 
smile  of  genial  maliciousness  stole  over  his 
face,  and  he  asked,  "How  about  the  poor 
little  gal  ?  Have  you  sent  her  back  to  Mrs. 
Crumley's?" 

The  little  girl  came  out  from  behind  the 
Christinas  tree,  her  stocking,  now  but  half 
filled,  in  her  hand.  "  Here  I  am,"  she  said. 
"  Don't  you  want  to  give  me  a  Christmas  hug, 
Captain  Cephas  ?  You  and  me's  the  only  ones 
that  hasn't  had  any." 

The  Christmas  dinner  was  as  truly  and  per 
fectly  a  sailor-cooked  meal  as  ever  was  served 
on  board  a  ship  or  off  it.  Captain  Cephas 
had  said  that,  and  when  he  had  so  spoken 
there  was  no  need  of  further  words. 

It  was  nearly  dark  that  afternoon,  and  they 
were  all  sitting  around  the  kitchen  fire,  the 


214     CAPTAIN  ELP8  BEST  EAR 

three  seafaring  men  smoking,  and  Mrs.  Trim 
mer  greatly  enjoying  it.  There  could  be  no 
objection  to  the  smell  of  tobacco  in  this  house 
so  long  as  its  future  mistress  enjoyed  it. 
The  little  girl  sat  on  the  floor  nursing  a 
Chinese  idol  which  had  been  one  of  her  pres 
ents. 

"  After  all,"  said  Captain  Eli,  meditatively, 
"  this  whole  business  come  out  of  my  sleepin' 
with  my  best  ear  up  ;  for  if  I'd  slept  with  my 
hard-o'-hearin'  ear  up—"  Mrs.  Trimmer  put 
one  finger  on  his  lips.  "  All  right,"  said  Cap 
tain  Eli,  "  I  won't  say  no  more  ;  but  it  would 
have  been  different." 

Even  now,  several  years  after  that  Christ 
mas,  when  there  is  no  Mrs.  Trimmer,  and  the 
little  girl,  who  has  been  regularly  adopted  by 
Captain  Eli  and  his  wife,  is  studying  geog 
raphy,  and  knows  more  about  latitude  and 
longitude  than  her  teacher  at  school,  Captain 
Eli  has  still  a  slight  superstitious  dread  of 
sleeping  with  his  best  ear  uppermost. 

"Of  course  it's  the  most  all-fired  non 
sense,"  he  says  to  himself  over  and  over 
again.  Nevertheless,  he  feels  safer  when  it 
is  his  "hard-o'-hearin'  ear"  that  is  not  upon 
the  pillow. 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 


IT  was  a  beautiful,  quiet  August  morning 
and  I  lay  in  a  hammock  looking  up  at 
the  blue  and  cloudless  sky.  The  hammock 
was  hung  between  two  trees  on  the  back 
lawn  of  my  father's  country  house.  A  few 
hundred  feet  to  the  right  the  roof  and  chim 
neys  of  the  house  rose  above  the  tree  tops, 
At  the  foot  of  the  lawn,  not  quite  so  far  away, 
a  little  river  ran.  I  could  not  see  it,  but  now 
and  then  I  heard  the  gurgle  of  the  water,  and 
this,  with  the  singing  and  chirping  of  the 
birds  and  the  occasional  chatter  of  a  red 
squirrel  in  a  tree  near  by,  were  all  the  sounds 
I  heard  upon  that  quiet  morning. 

Gazing  upward  past  the  nearest  tree  tops 
I  saw  against  the  sky  a  little  black  spot. 
This  was  odd  and  I  waved  my  hand  in  front 
of  my  face,  thinking  it  might  be  some  fly  or 
insect  near  me,  but  it  was  nothing  of  the 
kind.  It  was  a  spot  in  the  sky.  I  moved 


218      A3  ONE   WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

iny  head  from  side  to  side  but  I  could  see  it 
only  in  one  place.  It  was  not  the  effect  of 
disordered  vision,  it  was  not  fancy,  it  was 
really  a  spot  against  the  sky. 

I  sat  up  in  my  hammock  and  gazed  stead 
fastly  at  the  distant  speck,  and  as  I  looked  I 
could  see  that  it  was  growing  larger.  In  less 
than  ten  minutes  I  saw  that  it  was  a  balloon, 
and  that  it  was  slowly  approaching  in  my  di 
rection,  and  also  descending.  I  ran  out  on 
the  open  lawn  to  get  a  better  view  of  it. 
There  was  a  very  gentle  wind,  and  this  blew 
directly  in  my  face  as  I  looked  at  the  balloon. 
I  believed  that  it  would  pass  over  the  lawn. 

I  became  very  much  interested,  even  ex 
cited,  and  the  more  so  because  I  now  per 
ceived  that  it  was  a  small  balloon,  entirely 
too  small  to  sustain  the  weight  of  a  man.  If 
it  had  been  an  ordinary  balloon  with  an  oc 
cupant,  it  might  have  been  interesting  to  hail 
him  as  he  passed  over  my  head,  but  here  was 
something  that  came  floating  out  of  the  sky 
toward  me,  and  which  I  might  secure  as  a 
prize  if  I  could  follow  it  until  it  came  to 
earth. 

Nearer  and  nearer  it  approached,  and  I 
could  plainly  see  the  little  basket  which  hung 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   219 

beneath  the  partly  distended  bag.  The  wild 
desire  seized  me  to  capture  this  air-ship.  As 
I  hastily  considered  my  chances  they  did  not 
appear  encouraging.  The  wind,  though  light, 
was  steady,  and  there  was  every  reason  to  be 
lieve  that  the  balloon  would  be  carried  across 
the  river,  and  might  not  touch  the  earth  until 
it  had  gone  a  long  distance  on  the  other  side. 
If  I  crossed  the  river  I  might  be  able  to  keep 
up  with  the  balloon,  but  I  suddenly  remem 
bered  that  this  would  be  impossible  because 
my  younger  brother  Richard  had  gone  fishing 
in  the  boat.  He  had  started  to  fly  a  kite  I  had 
made  him,  but  the  wind  had  not  been  strong 
enough  and  he  had  taken  to  the  water. 

As  I  hurried  down  to  the  river  I  could  not 
see  or  hear  the  boat,  but  by  the  wall  at  the 
bottom  of  the  lawn  I  saw  Richard's  kite,  and 
near  by  a  basket  in  which  he  kept  his  fishing 
tackle.  A  thought  struck  me  ;  I  ran  down  to 
the  wall  and  turned  over  the  basket  and 
spread  its  contents  on  the  ground.  Among 
them  I  found  three  large  fish-hooks  which  the 
youngster  had  used  at  the  seashore.  Then  I 
sprang  to  the  kite ;  the  wind  was  fresher  now. 
With  all  the  nervous  earnestness  of  a  boy 
I  bound  the  three  hooks,  back  to  back  and 


220      AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

points  downward,  to  the  cord  a  few  feet  below 
the  point  where  it  was  fastened  to  the  kite, 
and  then,  the  kite  in  one  hand,  and  the  ball 
of  cord  in  the  other,  I  ran  out  into  the  open 
and  looked  up.  Not  far  away,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  house,  but  still  high  above  the 
tree  tops,  I  saw  the  balloon  steadily  moving 
toward  me.  It  would  certainly  cross  the 
river,  it  might  sail  on  for  hours.  I  set  the 
kite  against  the  wind ;  I  tossed  it  up  ;  I  ran. 
In  a  few  seconds  it  caught  the  breeze,  steadied 
itself  and  began  to  rise.  On  I  ran  toward  the 
house,  and  higher  and  higher  rose  the  kite. 
If  I  could  only  get  it  high  enough ;  if  I  could 
hook  it  on  to  that  balloon  I  should  be  as 
happy  as  a  deer  stalker  who  brings  down 
a  stag. 

The  kite  went  up  grandly,  high  over  the 
river,  higher  and  higher,  and  I  ran  this  way 
and  that  to  bring  it  in  line  with  the  balloon. 
I  let  out  more  cord ;  the  kite,  like  a  hawk, 
was  now  soaring  far  above  its  quarry.  If  I 
could  bring  the  cord  against  the  balloon  ;  if 
those  hooks  would  catch ;  if  they  would  take 
such  good  hold  of  some  of  the  netting  or  of 
the  basket  so  that  I  might  pull  it  down !  In 
my  excitement  and  with  my  eyes  ever  aloft,  I 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   221 

fell  over  a  little  bush,  but  it  did  not  matter  ;  I 
was  up  in  an  instant  and  the  kite  made  but  a 
few  flaps  before  I  had  it  steady  again. 

The  balloon  had  now  passed  over  my  head 
and  was  not  far  from  the  cord.  I  ran  a  few 
steps  to  the  right  and  then  pulled  down.  The 
cord  almost  touched  it.  I  pulled  down  hard 
er.  I  could  feel  a  little  thump  upon  the  cord 
and  then  the  balloon  moved  gently  away 
from  the  kite. 

I  let  out  more  cord  and  ran  toward  the 
river.  The  kite  rose  again.  I  pulled  it  down. 
"With  eyes  fixed  as  though  I  were  aiming  a 
rifle  I  moved  the  cord  so  that  it  might  again 
touch  the  balloon.  It  did  touch  ;  I  pulled  it 
sharply  ;  the  hooks  caught  in  the  netting 
over  the  bag  and  held !  What  a  bound  my 
heart  gave  !  Had  I  been  my  young  brother 
I  could  not  have  breathed  more  triumphantly. 

But  I  had  not  yet  secured  my  prize.  The 
cord,  though  light,  was  a  strong  one,  but 
there  was  now  a  great  strain  upon  it.  Al 
though  the  balloon  was  small,  with  the  bag 
but  partly  filled  with  gas,  it  presented  a  con 
siderable  surface  to  the  wind,  and  I  soon  be 
gan  to  fear  that  the  cord  would  break  before 
I  could  pull  down  both  the  balloon  and  the 


222       A3  ONE   WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

kite,  but  in  a  moment  I  saw  that  the  bag  was 
collapsing,  and  the  strain  upon  the  cord  was 
becoming  much  less.  I  could  easily  imagine 
what  had  happened.  One  or  more  of  the 
hooks  had  torn  the  silk  of  the  balloon,  and 
as  gas  escaped  through  .fche  rent  it  was  falling 
by  its  own  weight. 

Down,  down  it  came,  pulling  the  kite  with 
it,  and  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  draw  in  the 
cord  and  direct  my  descending  prize  toward 
an  open  spot  where  it  would  not  catch  on  the 
boughs  of  trees. 

Still  down  it  came,  and  as  if  I  had  pulled 
in  an  aerial  fish,  I  soon  beheld  the  whole 
affair  lying  on  the  grass  at  my  feet. 

For  a  moment  I  stood  and  gazed,  but  in 
the  whole  jumbled  mass  I  paid  attention  to 
nothing  but  a  small  basket  with  a  piece  of 
waterproof  cloth  tied  over  the  top.  I  ap 
proached  it  and  then  I  stopped  to  consider. 
I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  inspect  the  secret  of 
that  basket  alone.  Fortunately  my  mother 
and  father  were  away  and  my  sister  had  gone 
to  visit  some  neighbors.  Kichard  was  boat 
ing,  but  he  might  return  at  any  moment.  I 
jerked  out  my  knife  and  cut  the  basket  loose 
from  the  cords,  and  then,  taking  it  under  my 


A8  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   223 

arm,  I  ran  to  the  house  and  up-stairs  to  my 
room,  where  I  locked  myself  in. 

With  trembling  hands  and  eager  curiosity 
I  removed  the  cover  from  the  basket.  The 
first  thing  I  saw  was  a  small  cage  containing 
a  pigeon.  I  took  this  out  and  set  it  on  the 
floor,  the  bird  cooing  and  turning  itself  around 
as  if  it  were  glad  to  see  a  human  being.  Then 
I  perceived  a  wooden  framework,  in  which 
were  set  some  instruments,  thermometers, 
barometers,  and  I  do  not  know  what.  On 
the  top  of  this  was  attached  a  stout  envelope 
on  which  was  written  :  "To  the  person  who 
finds  this  balloon." 

It  took  me  but  a  few  seconds  to  release  the 
envelope.  It  was  not  sealed  and  I  opened  it 
and  drew  out  a  letter.  This  surprised  me.  As 
soon  as  I  had  noticed  the  instruments  secure 
ly  fastened  to  the  framework  I  had  suspected 
that  this  balloon  had  been  sent  up  by  some 
scientific  person  and  that  the  envelope  con 
tained  technical  directions  to  the  finder.  But 
here  was  a  letter  on  two  sheets  of  cream- 
colored  note  paper,  and  evidently  written  by 
a  lady.  I  glanced  at  the  end  of  it.  It  had  no 
signature,  and  then,  still  seated  on  the  floor, 
I  read  it : 


224      A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

"  Whoever  you  may  be  who  shall  find  this 
letter  I  beg  and  implore  you  to  read  it  care 
fully  and  then  to  do  what  you  can  to  assist  a 
fellow-being  who  can  ask  no  one  in  the  world 
but  yourself  to  help  her.  I  cannot  write 
everything  in  this  letter,  but  I  will  put  in  all 
that  I  can.  I  am  an  unfortunate  girl  who  is 
suffering  great  misery,  and  who  is  cut  off 
from  all  the  world  by  a  cruelty  which  would 
take  a  long  time  to  describe.  All  I  can  say 
here  is  that  my  uncle,  who  has  been  ap 
pointed  my  guardian  and  the  trustee  of  my 
property,  has  kept  me  for  months  and  months 
and  months  as  a  close  prisoner.  I  never  go  off 
the  premises  and  I  never  see  anybody  but 
him  and  one  or  two  servants.  I  am  not 
allowed  to  send  any  letters  that  are  not  first 
examined  by  him,  and  my  situation  is  getting 
to  be  more  dreadful  every  day. 

"  It  will  not  be  long  before  I  shall  go  crazy. 
I  have  tried  ever  so  many  ways  of  getting 
news  of  my  situation  to  somebody  in  the 
outside  world,  but  I  have  failed,  and  now  I 
try  this,  which  is  my  last  chance.  My  uncle 
is  a  very  learned  man  and  is  always  making 
experiments.  He  sends  up  balloons  with  in 
struments  in  them,  which  register  heat  and 


A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   225 

cold  and  height,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  He 
always  puts  in  his  balloon  a  letter  to  the  per 
son  who  shall  find  it  when  it  comes  down, 
asking  that  person  to  look  at  the  instruments 
and  set  down  whatever  they  register.  He 
also  tells  him  to  take  out  the  pigeon  which  is 
in  the  cage  and  remove  from  its  wing  a  roll 
of  very  thin  paper.  Then  he  asks  that  the 
registrations  be  written  011  this  paper,  and 
that  it  shall  be  tied  on  the  pigeon's  wing  just 
as  it  was  before ;  after  which  the  pigeon  is  to 
be  set  at  liberty,  when  it  will  immediately 
fly  back  to  him.  He  also  sends  his  address 
and  requests  that  a  letter  be  written  to  him 
giving  all  sorts  of  information  on  a  printed 
form  which  he  incloses.  But  he  wants  the 
pigeon  sent  first,  because  the  balloon  may 
come  down  at  some  place  which  is  very  far 
from  a  post-office. 

"  My  plan  is  this,  and  if  you  get  this  let 
ter  you  will  know  that  it  has  succeeded.  He 
sends  up  his  balloons  from  a  courtyard 
which  is  under  my  window,  and  one  of  the 
first  things  he  does  is  to  tie  his  letter  to  the 
instrument  frame,  and  the  last  thing  he  does 
is  to  go  and  get  the  pigeon.  While  he  is 
away  doing  this  I  shall  slip  down  to  the 


226       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

court,  take  out  his  letter  and  put  in  mine, 
and  then  pray  that  it  may  go  to  some  good 
soul  who  will  help  me. 

"  What  I  want  you  to  do  is  this :  first  make 
up  your  mind  whether  or  not  you  are  will 
ing  to  help  a  poor  unfortunate  girl,  shut  off 
from  all  other  help  by  a  sky  above  her 
which  she  cannot  reach,  an  earth  below  her 
which  she  cannot  penetrate,  and  walls  all 
about  her  which  she  cannot  get  through.  If 
you  are  willing  to  do  what  you  can  for  me 
please  take  the  paper  from  the  pigeon's  wing 
and  write  your  name  and  address  upon  it, 
and  then  tie  it  on  as  it  was  before.  But  if 
you  are  not  willing  to  help  me,  and  do  not 
wish  to  put  yourself  to  trouble  by  meddling 
in  the  affairs  of  an  utter  stranger,  please  at 
least  be  kind  enough  not  to  write  anything 
on  the  paper  which  might  let  my  uncle  know 
what  I  have  done,  but  let  the  pigeon  come 
back  just  as  it  is. 

"  I  am  almost  sure  it  will  come  to  me  be 
fore  he  sees  it,  for  I  have  fed  this  bird  for  a 
long  time  on  the  balcony  under  my  window, 
and  I  shall  watch  for  it  by  day  and  by  night. 
But  if  my  uncle  should  get  it  first  he  will 
see  nothing  but  your  address  or  the  empty 


A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER      227 

paper,  and  so  lie  will  not  know  what  I  have 
done.  If  I  first  get  the  pigeon  and  find 
your  name  on  it,  I  will  immediately  write  to 
you,  asking  you  to  send  me  some  drawing 
material  or  something  of  that  kind,  and 
give  my  name  and  address.  That  sort  of 
letter  my  uncle  will  let  pass.  I  do  not  send 
my  address  now  because  I  am  afraid  to  do 
so  until  I  really  know  of  some  person  who  is 
willing  I  should  send  it. 

"  Now  when  you  get  my  note  I  implore 
you  to  come  to  the  little  town  where  I  live 
and  find  out  where  my  uncle's  house  is. 
You  can  easily  do  this,  for  everybody  knows 
him.  Then  please,  I  beg  of  you,  try  to  see 
me.  There  is  a  large  garden  at  the  back  of 
the  house  and  a  high  wall  all  around  it. 
After  I  hear  from  you  I  shall  be  there  as 
much  as  I  can.  You  cannot  make  a  mistake, 
for  I  am  the  only  young  person  in  the  house. 
Even  if  it  should  rain  I  will  go  out  with  a 
mackintosh.  And  now,  without  knowing 
who  you  are,  I  put  my  happiness,  my  fort 
une,  and  I  may  even  say  the  possession  of 
my  senses,  into  your  charge,  for  I  know  if  you 
will  make  my  situation  known  to  the  proper 
persons  I  shall  soon  be  free  and  happy." 


228      A8  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

For  a  long  time  after  I  read  this  letter  I 
sat  on  the  floor  holding  it  in  my  hand. 
What  a  message  to  come  to  me  out  of  the 
clear  August  sky !  How  glad  I  was  that  no 
body  but  myself  had  seen  the  balloon,  and 
that  I  could  sit  here  and  consider  the  matter 
without  interference.  While  thinking  thus 
I  was  reminded  that  I  was  not  alone,  and 
that  there  was  another  party  who  had  an 
interest  in  the  proceedings.  This  was  the 
pigeon,  who  began  to  coo  louder  and  louder 
and  to  turn  itself  around  with  considerable 
vigor. 

I  laid  down  the  letter  and  picked  up  the 
cage,  and  as  I  put  my  hand  under  it  to  raise 
it,  so  that  I  could  better  look  at  the  pigeon's 
wing,  I  felt  that  the  bottom  of  the  cage  was 
very  warm,  and  on  examining  it  I  found  that 
the  bottom  was  a  double  one  and  contained 
a  long  bag  of  fine  charcoal,  which,  on  being 
lighted  at  one  end,  would  burn  for  many 
hours,  after  the  manner  of  the  little  Japanese 
stoves.  This,  no  doubt,  was  to  protect  the 
pigeon  against  the  extreme  cold  of  high  alti 
tudes.  The  wicked  uncle  must  indeed  be  an 
ingenious  and  practical  man. 

I  did  not    look  at  the  instruments ;  my 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER      229 

mind  was  too  much  excited  by  the  letter  to 
allow  me  to  examine  their  registrations.  I 
was  entirely  occupied  with  the  question: 
"  What  shall  I  do  for  the  writer  of  this  let 
ter  ?  "  I  could  not  believe  it  was  a  hoax  be 
cause  no  one  wishing  to  play  a  joke  would 
send  up  such  a  balloon  with  those  expensive 
instruments. 

I  thought  for  a  moment  of  waiting  until 
some  of  the  family  returned,  and  taking 
counsel  of  them,  but  this  idea  I  quickly  re 
jected.  If  I  were  going  to  do  anything  I 
ought  to  do  it  now.  If  there  really  should 
be  a  young  woman  who  needed  help  she  was 
waiting  and  watching  for  the  return  of  that 
pigeon.  If  it  should  prove  to  be  nothing 
but  a  joke  I  would  rather  be  laughed  at  for 
doing  what  I  thought  was  a  good  action 
than  to  have  my  conscience  reproach  me  for 
being  a  coward,  afraid  of  being  laughed  at. 

Now  that  my  decision  was  made  I  drew 
the  pigeon  from  the  cage,  took  off  the  paper, 
noticing  how  it  was  rolled  and  tied,  wrote  on 
it  my  name  and  address,  attached  it  again  to 
the  wing  of  the  bird,  and  then,  going  to  the 
window,  threw  the  pigeon  into  the  air.  For 
a  few  minutes  it  flew  round  and  round,  then 


230       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

it  mounted  high  and  disappeared  over  the 
tops  of  the  trees. 

"  It  has  gone  to  her,"  I  said,  and  I  sat 
down  and  read  the  letter  over  again. 

Suddenly  I  thought  of  the  balloon  on  the 
grass.  Why  should  any  one  know  of  this 
thing  but  myself,  at  least  until  I  chose  to 
make  it  known?  I  ran  down  to  the  lawn 
and  disengaged  the  kite,  and  then,  rolling  up 
the  balloon-bag  with  its  netting,  I  carried  it 
to  a  corner  of  the  grounds  and  concealed  it 
under  a  heavy  hedge.  Then  I  took  Eichard's 
kite  to  the  river-wall  and  restored  all  his 
possessions  to  the  condition  in  which  I  had 
found  them. 

Now  all  traces  of  my  messenger  from  the 
sky  having  been  removed  and  my  answer  to 
the  message  having  been  despatched,  I  sat 
upon  the  wall  to  think  more  about  it,  and 
while  doing  so  my  mind  became  deeply,  and, 
I  may  say,  not  altogether  pleasantly,  im 
pressed  by  the  remembrance  that  I  was  en 
gaged  to  be  married.  This,  of  course,  had 
never  been  anything  but  a  most  delightful 
remembrance,  but  just  now  it  did  not  seem 
to  fit  into  the  condition  of  things.  Perhaps 
I  ought  to  have  remembered  it  sooner. 


GOING  TO  THE   WINDOW,   I  THREW  THE   PIGEON  INTO  THE  AIR. 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   231 

What  would  Clara  Markham  think  of  my 
offering  to  become  the  knight-errant  for  the 
benefit  of  another  young  lady  ?  That  this 
lady's  name  and  habitation  were  unknown 
would  make  no  difference,  and  if  it  should 
prove  that  no  such  lady  existed  it  would  still 
make  no  difference,  for  I  had  assumed  her  to 
be  a  real  person,  suffering  real  hardships, 
and  had,  in  fact,  offered  myself  as  her  protec 
tor.  The  more  I  thought  of  Clara  Markham 
in  connection  with  what  I  had  done  the 
more  my  thoughts  troubled  me.  One  thing 
was  clear  to  me  :  I  had  no  right  to  keep  this 
affair  a  secret  from  her.  So,  that  afternoon, 
I  rode  over  to  her  father's  house,  about  two 
miles  distant,  and  being  fortunate  enough  to 
find  Clara  at  home,  I  conducted  her  to  a  se 
cluded  spot  on  the  ground,  and  there  I  as 
tonished  her  as  I  think  she  was  never  aston 
ished  before.  With  her  eyes  very  wide  open 
she  sat  and  looked  at  me. 

"  If  it  had  been  anybody  but  you,  Tom," 
she  exclaimed,  "  had  told  me  this,  I  would 
not  have  believed  it !  I  would  not  have  be 
lieved  there  had  been  any  balloon,  any  pig 
eon,  any  letter.  But  what  you  tell  me,  I  be 
lieve,  no  matter  what  it  is." 


232      AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

To  this  I  replied  properly  and  added  that 
I  expected  her  always  to  do  so. 

"  But  there  is  one  thing  I  do  not  believe," 
she  went  on  to  say,  "  and  that  is  that  there 
is  any  young  lady  at  all  in  the  matter,  or  if 
there  is  that  she  is  in  trouble  and  needs  as 
sistance.  I  think  it  is  all  a  hoax,  and  we  need 
not  consider  it  or  talk  about  it  any  more." 

"  But,  my  dear  girl,"  said  I,  "  I  have  sent 
my  name  to  the  writer  of  that  letter,  and  in 
so  doing  I  have  given  her  a  promise  that  I 
will  help  her.  Of  course  it  all  may  be  a  hoax, 
but  suppose  it  is  not,  would  you  like  to  think 
that  I  had  positively  declined  to  help  a  fellow- 
being  in  distress  ?  Would  you  like  to  con 
sider  me  that  sort  of  a  man  ?  " 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Clara.  "If  she  is 
a  real  person  and  needs  help  she  ought  to  be 
helped,  but  there  are  other  people  besides  you 
who  can  do  it." 

"  Who,  for  instance  ?  J'  I  asked. 

"  There  is  my  cousin  Charles,"  she  said. 

Now,  above  all  people  in  this  world  I  hated 
that  cousin  Charles.  He  was  in  the  habit  of 
mingling  with  the  Markham  family  as  if  he 
belonged  to  it,  and  I  had  often  been  jealous 
of  him  in  regard  to  Clara,  and  now  it  seemed 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   233 

as  if  I  were  even  more  jealous  of  him  in  re 
gard  to  this  unknown  girl,  to  whom,  perhaps, 
the  pigeon  had,  even  now,  carried  my  mes 
sage. 

"  No,"  said  I,  a  little  too  decidedly  per 
chance,  "  your  cousin  would  not  do.  I  have 
sent  my  name  in  good  faith,  and  whatever 
happens  I  shall  act  in  a  straightforward  and 
honest  way,  telling  you  everything  that  I  do 
and  taking  your  advice  about  it.  But  your 
cousin  would  either  make  fun  of  the  whole 
affair  or  else — anyway  it  would,  in  fact,  be  a 
breach  of  confidence  for  me  to  pass  over  the 
management  of  this  affair  to  anyone  else 
until  the  writer  of  that  letter  should  authorize 
me  to  do  so.  I  found  the  balloon ;  I  am  the 
person  to  whom  she  wrote,  that  is  to  say " 
(here  a  happy  thought  struck  me)  "  you  and  I 
are  the  persons  to  whom  she  wrote,  and  it  is 
to  us  that  she  appeals  for  help.  Now,  are  we 
going  to  throw  her  over  even  before  we  know 
who  she  is  ?  " 

At  this  Clara's  countenance  began  to  clear 
a  little. 

"  That  is  true,"  she  said  ;  "  you  and  I  are 
the  persons  who  have  this  case  in  our 
hands." 


234:       A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

"And  whatever  happens  we  will  keep  the 
whole  matter  a  secret  between  ourselves,"  I 
said. 

It  was  three  clays  after  this  conversation 
that,  walking  on  the  lawn,  I  saw  our  man 
bringing  the  mail-bag  from  the  post-office. 
As  had  happened  on  the  two  preceding 
mornings  I  met  him  at  the  gate  and  looked 
into  the  bag  to  see  if  there  were  any  letters 
for  me.  This  morning  there  were  several 
letters  addressed  to  me,  and  among  them  one 
in  the  handwriting  of  the  balloon  lady.  I 
put  this  in  my  pocket  and  tore  open  the 
others,  but  I  am  sure  I  did  not  know  then, 
nor  have  I  ever  since  known,  what  was  in 
them.  I  went  to  my  room  and  opened  my 
letter.  As  I  did  so  I  said  to  myself  that  I 
ought  not  to  be  so  interested  in  this  corre 
spondence.  But  I  was  interested — so  much  so 
that  I  cut  my  finger  with  the  knife  with  which 
I  opened  the  envelope. 

The  following  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  note 
I  read : 

August  17,  1891. 
MR.  THOMAS  W.  GRANT, 

Dear  Sir : — Having  seen  your  advertisement  of  music 
for  the  guitar  I  beg  you  will  send  me  the  pieces  Nos.  39, 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   235 

102  and  68.     I  inclose  a  postal  note   for  the  amount, 

ninety-five  cents. 

Yours  truly, 

GRACE  SOMERVILLE  ROSLEY, 
Care  George  R.  Rosley,  Esq., 

Wolverton,  Hunterdon  Co., 
New  Jersey. 

"Well !  well !  "  said  I,  "  she  is  as  practical- 
minded  as  her  uncle.  Think  of  her  putting 
in  that  postal  note !  What  a  capital  idea ! 
The  most  suspicious  person  would  never  im 
agine  that  this  letter  had  been  sent  to  one 
whom  she  had  called  upon  to  act  as  her  pro 
tector,  her  knight-errant.  Of  course  the  pig 
eon  went  to  her  first,  for  had  her  uncle  re 
ceived  my  address  there  would  have  been  no 
reason  for  his  giving  it  to  her.  Everything 
has  gone  well,  and  now  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 
As  I  asked  myself  this  question  my  conscience 
again  reproached  me  for  taking  so  much  in 
terest  in  the  matter,  but  I  turned  severely 
on  my  conscience  and  asked  it,  in  turn,  if  it 
were  not  possible  for  a  man  to  truly  love  one 
woman  and  yet  feel  desirous  of  helping  an 
other  woman  in  sore  distress  ?  If  these  two 
things  were  incompatible,  no  man  should  love. 
At  this,  I  am  happy  to  say,  my  conscience 
was  completely  humbled  and  said  no  more. 


236       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

But  when  I  took  the  note  I  had  received  to 
Clara  she  said  a  great  deal.  She  took  much 
interest  in  the  matter,  even  more,  I  thought, 
than  I  did,  and  in  my  opinion  entirely  too 
much. 

"  I  believe,"  said  she,  "  that  the  writer  of 
this  is  a  person  accustomed  to  deception.  I 
do  not  see  how  she  could  bring  herself  to  say 
she  had  seen  your  advertisement,  and  then  to 
send  you  money !  It  is  a  positive  insult ! 
How  much  better  it  would  have  been  if  she 
had  written  plainly  and  honestly  what  she 
had  to  say,  without  all  these  tricks." 

With  a  sigh  at  the  obtuseness  of  the  female 
intellect  I  explained  to  Clara  that  if  Miss 
Rosley  had  written  a  plain,  straightforward 
letter  her  uncle  would  not  have  allowed  her 
to  send  it.  Nothing  but  a  simple  business 
note  like  this  would  have  passed  his  sus 
picious  scrutiny.  The  inclosing  of  the  postal 
note  was — I  was  about  to  say  a  stroke  of 
genius,  but  I  changed  this  expression  to — the 
most  prudent  thing  possible. 

"  When  a  person  is  a  prisoner  and  guarded 
with  cruel  watchfulness,"  I  said,  "  subterfuges 
are  necessary  and  right.  Would  you  hesitate 
if  you  were  cruelly  imprisoned,  and  wished 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   237 

to  communicate  with  me,  to  resort  to  a  sub 
terfuge?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  such  imprisonments 
in  this  enlightened  age,  and  in  this  country," 
said  she;  "it  is  nonsense  to  suppose  that 
there  are  such  things." 

"  It  does  seem  so,"  I  answered,  "  but  every 
thing  is  possible,  and  supposing  that  this 
young  lady's  story  should  be  true,  how  could 
we  reconcile  it  to  our  consciences  if  we  totally 
disregard  her  second  appeal  to  us  for  help?" 

Clara  did  not  immediately  answer.  Her 
mind  seemed  disturbed. 

"  Of  course  she  ought  to  be  helped,"  she 
said,  "  but  you  are  not  the  person  to  do  it. 
Why  couldn't  I  go  to  her  and  hear  what  she 
has  to  say  ?  " 

"You! "said  I.  " Impossible.  Wolverton 
is  a  long  way  from  here,  and,  besides,  you 
could  not  go  about  alone  asking  for  Mr. 
Eosley's  house,  and  even  manage  to  get  an 
undisturbed  interview  with  his  niece." 

"  I  would  rather  do  that  than  have  you  do 
it,"  she  said,  "but  it  is  not  necessary  for  me 
to  go  alone.  Cousin  Charles  could  go  with 
me." 

"  If  your  cousin  goes,"  said  I,  a  little  sharp- 


238       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

ly,  for  this  remark  annoyed  me  very  much, 
"he  would  better  go  by  himself.  But  I  do 
not  want  him  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it. 
This  is  my  affair." 

"  And  mine,"  said  she. 

"Yes,"  I  assented,  "it  is  ours.  But,"  I 
added,  "although  I  came  to  you  with  it  and 
laid  the  whole  thing  before  you  exactly  as  I 
knew  it  myself,  trusting  you  as  I  always  do 
in  everything,  you  do  not  seem  in  the  least 
willing  to  trust  me." 

At  this  Clara's  eyes  became  a  little  dim. 
"Tom,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand  on  my 
arm,  "  you  have  no  right  to  say  that."  And 
then  for  ten  minutes  our  conversation  be 
came  strictly  personal.  When  this  inter 
change  of  sentiments  had  been  satisfactorily 
concluded,  Clara  suddenly  exclaimed : 

"  Tell  me,  Tom,  what  it  is  that  you  think 
you  ought  to  do.  Have  you  thought  of  any 
plan?" 

"  It  is  all  as  simple  as  can  be,"  I  answered ; 
"  there  is  no  plan  but  one.  I  go  to  Wolver- 
ton  and  I  find  out  where  Mr.  Eosley's  house 
is.  Then  I  walk  toward  it  and  around  the 
back  of  it,  on  some  elevated  ground  where  I 
can  look  over  the  wall,  for,  of  course,  if  there 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   239 

were  not  such  a  place  she  could  not  expect 
any  one  to  see  her  in  the  garden,  and  then  if 
I  see  a  young  lady  I  will  approach  the  garden 
and  speak  to  her,  probably  through  a  grated 
gate.  I  will  ask  her  to  tell  me  her  story  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and,  after  making  some 
inquiries  in  the  village,  by  which,  with 
out  exciting  suspicion,  I  can  find  out  some 
thing  about  the  Eosley  family,  I  will  return 
to  you  and  tell  you  all  about  it.  Then  we 
can  decide  whether  or  not  we  ought  to  in 
form  the  legal  authorities  or  her  distant 
friends,  if  she  has  any,  of  the  state  of  her 
case,  or  let  the  whole  thing  drop." 

"  You  must  have  been  thinking  a  great  deal 
about  it,"  she  said  quickly,  "  to  have  such  a 
plan  as  that  so  pat  and  ready  to  carry  out. 
But  I  am  not  going  to  find  fault  with  you ;  I 
know  you  have  one  of  the  quickest  of  minds. 
Of  course  your  plan  is  the  proper  one,  and  I 
would  approve  of  it  in  every  way  if  it  were 
Mr.  Eosley's  nephew  who  was  imprisoned,  but 
a  young  girl  in  a  sequestered  garden,  that  is 
dreadfully  different  1 " 

I  replied  loftily,  "  To  me  she  would  be 
simply  a  human  being — her  sex,  her  age,  her 
appearance  would  be  nothing  to  me.  I  would 


240       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

consider  only  her  sufferings,  and  would  not 
even  consider  my  ability  to  relieve  her.  I 
would  consult  you  about  that." 

"  Tom,"  said  Clara,  "  I  do  not  suppose  that 
I  really  can  go  to  talk  to  that  girl,  which  is 
what  I  want  to  do,  but  do  you  think  that  you 
could  go  to  her  as  I  would,  feeling  all  the 
time  that  you  were  filling  my  place,  and  that 
you  could  speak  to  her,  and  listen  to  her,  as 
one  woman  to  another  ?  " 

I  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  "  Clara !  "  I 
exclaimed,  "  I  believe  that  I  could." 

"  Then,  Tom,"  said  the  noble  girl,  "  you 
can  go." 

There  was  no  chance  to  say  or  do  more, 
for  we  saw  persons  approaching  from  the 
house. 

The  next  morning  I  took  an  early  train  for 
Wolverton.  I  determined  to  be  very  cautious 
about  this  business,  and  if  I  should  find  there 
were  no  Mr.  Eosley,  and  consequently  no 
young  lady  in  a  garden,  I  would  quietly  re 
turn  without  giving  anyone  a  chance  to  make 
fun  of  me. 

Wolverton  was  a  small  village,  and  as  I 
took  some  refreshments  at  the  inn  I  asked 
some  very  natural  questions  of  the  innkeeper 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   241 

about  the  village  and  some  of  its  principal 
residents. 

I  was  disappointed  that  he  did  not  men 
tion  the  only  name  I  cared  to  hear,  but  on 
my  remarking  that  I  had  heard  a  scientific 
gentleman  lived  in  the  place,  he  answered  : 

"  Oh,  you  must  mean  Mr.  Eosley,  but  he 
doesn't  live  in  the  village.  His  house  is  about 
a  mile  out." 

"In  what  direction  ?  "  I  asked,  carelessly, 
and  while  the  innkeeper  was  giving  me  the 
information  I  endeavored  to  suppress  the  ex 
citement  caused  by  the  knowledge  that  I  was 
really  on  the  right  track. 

As  soon  as  I  could  decently  do  so  I  paid 
my  little  bill  and  sauntered  out.  I  know  the 
man  took  me  for  a  book  agent,  but  I  was  very 
well  satisfied  that  he  should  do  so. 

The  Kosley  place  was  an  old-fashioned  one. 
The  house  faced  the  main  road,  but  stood 
well  back  from  it,  and  a  narrow  lane,  at  right 
angles  with  the  main  road,  passed  the  house 
at  no  great  distance,  and  as  I  walked  along 
this  lane  I  could  see  through  a  bushy  hedge 
a  courtyard,  lying  in  an  angle  of  the  man 
sion. 

"  That  is  the  place  where  he  sends  up  his 


242       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

balloons,"  I  said  to  myself ;  "  her  window 
must  look  out  on  it." 

Passing  still  farther  on  my  heart  fairly 
bounded  when  I  perceived  behind  the  house 
the  high  wall  of  a  garden. 

As  I  passed  the  long  side  wall  I  saw  that 
it  had  no  gate  nor  opening,  and  when  I 
reached  the  end  of  it  I  found  that  the  garden 
backed  upon  a  field  planted  with  corn.  On 
the  outside  of  the  back  wall  was  a  row  of 
cedar-trees. 

Looking  about  me  and  finding  that  no  one 
was  in  sight  I  got  into  the  cornfield  and  ap 
proached  the  garden.  I  passed  along  the 
whole  of  the  back  wall  but  found  no  door  nor 
grating.  I  peeped  around  the  corner  to  the 
other  side  and  saw  there  was  a  door  there 
but  it  was  of  solid  plank  and  too  near  the 
house.  When  my  unknown  correspondent 
wrote  to  me  that  I  would  see  her  in  the  gar 
den,  it  evidently  had  not  entered  her  head  to 
inform  me  how  I  should  see  her.  The  neigh 
boring  elevation  from  which  I  had  imagined 
I  might  look  down  into  the  garden  did  not 
exist,  and  the  only  way  in  which  I  could  see 
into  it  was  to  look  over  the  back  wall,  where  I 
would  myself  be  protected  from  observation. 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   243 

This  would  not  be  difficult  if  I  could  manage 
to  climb  into  one  of  the  cedar-trees  which 
stood  on  the  outer  side  of  the  wall. 

The  position  in  which  I  found  myself  while 
I  was  quietly  surveying  Mr.  Eosley's  walled 
garden,  with  the  intention  of  getting  into  it 
if  I  could  do  so,  was  not  altogether  satisfac 
tory.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  engaged  in  a  sly  and 
underhand  business.  Clandestine  methods 
are  allowable  in  war  and  love,  but  I  was  not 
engaged  in  either  of  these  pursuits,  besides 
I  was  endeavoring  to  speak  to  a  young  lady 
as  a  woman  would  speak  to  her.  Would  a 
woman  have  climbed  into  a  tree  to  talk  with 
her? 

However,  I  could  not  burden  my  mind  with 
such  casuistries.  I  had  come  to  do  a  thing 
and  I  must  do  it. 

I  quietly  climbed  into  a  tree  and  very 
cautiously  projected  my  head  above  the  wall. 
I  looked  into  a  garden  with  flower-beds, 
paths  bordered  with  high  rows  of  box,  masses 
of  shrubbery  here  and  there,  and  a  heavily 
shaded  arbor,  but  I  saw  no  human  being. 
Some  of  the  branches  of  the  tree  in  which  I 
was  standing  rested  on  the  top  of  the  wall  so 
that  I  looked  through  them  without  danger 


244:       A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

of  being  seen.  I  looked  and  I  looked  and  I 
looked,  but  there  was  nothing  I  cared  to  see 
and  my  heart  grew  heavier  and  heavier.  At 
one  time  I  thought  of  going  boldly  to  the 
front  door  and  asking  for  Miss  Kosley.  I 
might  thus,  at  least,  find  out  if  such  a  person 
existed,  and  if  this  were  so  I  might  even 
manage  in  the  presence  of  witnesses  to  talk 
to  her  about  the  music  she  had  ordered  and 
thus  let  her  know  who  I  was. 

Suddenly,  and  with  such  startling  effect 
that  I  almost  slipped  out  of  the  tree,  there 
appeared  before  me  an  apparition.  It  was 
that  of  a  young  lady  dressed  in  white,  and 
she  came  out  of  the  summer-house.  She  held 
a  book  in  her  hand,  and  with  sparkling  eyes 
and  lips  half  open  she  stepped  rapidly  toward 
me.  Stopping  a  little  distance  from  the  wall, 
she  said : 

"Is  that  Mr.  Thomas  -  -  ?  If  so,  what 
is  the  rest  of  your  name  ?  " 

I  could  scarcely  answer,  so  surprised  was 
I.  The  girl  was  beautiful.  I  do  not  believe 
I  ever  saw  such  eyes.  Clara's  are  dark. 

"  W.  Grant,"  said  I. 

A  smile  of  delight  spread  over  her  face. 
She  was  not  tall,  but  her  movements  and  ex- 


"  IS   THAT   MR.   THOMAS 


A8  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   245 

pressions  had  a  charm  in  them  which  seemed 
entirely  novel  to  me. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad,"  she  said;  "I  had  not 
the  least  idea  there  was  anybody  here  until  I 
happened  to  look  up  from  my  book  and  saw 
those  branches  moving.  Then  I  noticed  your 
hat.  How  good  of  you  to  come.  Do  you 
think  you  can  reach  this  ?  "  Then  dropping 
her  book  on  the  ground  she  took  from  her 
pocket  a  letter  and  held  it  up  to  me.  "  That 
is  a  full  account  of  me,  with  all  things  which 
I  wish  to  have  known.  I  give  it  to  you  now 
because  if  anyone  should  come  before  I  have 
time  to  talk  to  you,  you  will  not  have  to  go 
away  without  knowing  everything." 

I  leaned  over  the  wall,  stretched  down  my 
arm  and  took  the  letter. 

"  Then  I  may  talk  to  you  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  "  there  are  a 
good  many  things  I  want  to  ask  you.  If  I 
had  something  to  stand  on  it  would  be  bet 
ter,"  and  she  looked  about  her. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  trouble  yourself  to 
stand  on  anything,"  said  I,  visions  of  top 
pling  boxes  or  barrels  coming  into  my  mind. 
"  May  I  not  get  over  the  wall  and  speak  with 
you  on  the  ground  ?  " 


246       A3  ONE    WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

11  That  would  be  better,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
am  so  afraid  that  if  anyone  should  come  you 
could  not  get  back  again." 

I  glanced  along  the  inner  side  of  the  wall ; 
not  far  away  there  was  a  low  pear-tree,  and 
from  a  crotch  of  this  I  saw  I  could  readily 
reach  the  coping. 

"  I  can  get  back  again  easily  enough,"  said 
I,  and  in  a  moment  I  was  standing  by  her 
side. 

"  Let  us  step  into  the  arbor,"  she  said  ;  "  it 
is  possible  that  we  may  be  seen  here  from 
the  house." 

I  followed  her  quick  steps  toward  the  ar 
bor. 

"Now  let  us  sit  down  here,"  said  she, 
"  and  not  speak  very  loud.  I  am  dreadfully 
anxious  to  ask  you  some  things,  and,  besides, 
I  can  tell  you  what  is  in  that  letter  a  great 
deal  better  than  I  have  written  it.  But  first 
of  all  I  want  to  ask  you  some  questions. 
Have  you  a  sister  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"What  is  her  name?" 

"  Margaret." 

"  Oh,  and  is  your  mother  living,  and  what 
was  her  name  before  she  was  married  ?  " 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   247 

"Margaret  also —Margaret  Carson." 

She  clasped  her  little  hands  in  her  lap, 
and  turned  herself  slowly  toward  me. 

"  Then  you  are  not  the  person,"  said  she. 

"  What  person  ?  "  I  asked  in  consterna 
tion. 

"  When  my  father  was  living,"  she  said, 
"he  had  a  partner  who  was  his  great  friend, 
and  although  I  am  not  positively  and  cer 
tainly  sure  that  his  name  was  the  same  as 
yours,  I  know  it  was  Grant,  and  I  think  it 
was  Thomas  W.  He  is  dead,  but  I  know  he 
had  a  son  whose  name  was  Thomas,  and  I 
thought  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  be  living  at  the  address  you  sent  me. 
But  I  know  his  sister  and  his  mother,  and 
her  maiden  name  was  Stanfield,  and  neither 
of  them  is  named  Margaret.  Ever  since  I 
have  been  in  trouble  I  have  so  longed  to 
know  where  the  Grants  lived,  and  when  I 
took  your  address  from  the  pigeon's  wing  I 
could  have  screamed  with  delight.  But,  af 
ter  all,  you  are  not  the  person." 

Did  this  mean  that  I  was  to  get  up  and  re 
tire  over  the  garden  wall  ?  I  could  not  act 
on  such  a  supposition. 

"  I  do  not  know  any  Grants  who  married 


248      AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

Stanfields,"  said  I,  speaking  very  earnestly, 
"  but  I  assure  you,  Miss  Kosley,  that  that 
does  not  make  the  least  difference  in  the 
world.  You  want  help  and  I  am  here.  Tell 
me  what  it  is  that  I  can  do  for  you,  and  it 
shall  be  done  just  the  same  as  if  I  were  the 
son  of  your  father' s  friend.  I  judged  from  the 
letter  that  I  found  in  the  balloon  that  you  were 
in  great  trouble.  Now,  I  am  a  lawyer,  tell 
me  everything,  and  it  may  be  I  can  help  you 
as  well  as  anyone  else.  Your  appeal  for  help 
canie  to  me  floating  out  of  the  sky,  and  it 
made  a  great  impression  upon  me.  I  felt  that 
such  a  call  as  that  must  not  be  disregarded. 
I  came  to  you  just  as  soon  as  it  was  possible, 
and  now  I  do  not  want  you  to  send  me  away 
without  allowing  me  to  do  what  I  can  for  you." 

"How  glad  I  am  you  are  a  lawyer,"  she 
said,  the  light  again  shining  in  her  eyes.  "  A 
lawyer  ought  to  know  exactly  what  to  do,  and 
it  was  wonderfully  kind  of  you  to  take  so 
much  trouble  for  an  absolute  stranger,  and 
now  I  will  begin  at  the  beginning  and  tell 
you  everything  as  quickly  as  I  can." 

The  story  she  told  did  not  surprise  me.  In 
fact,  I  had  guessed  the  drift  of  it.  She  was 
an  orphan  and  had  reason  to  believe  that  her 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   249 

uncle,  who  was  her  guardian,  and  who  of  late 
years  had  become  very  eccentric,  had  spent 
a  great  part,  or  perhaps  all,  of  her  fortune 
in  his  expensive  experiments,  and  since  she 
had  left  school  and  was  of  age  he  had  been 
very  suspicious  and  watchful  of  her,  refusing 
her  permission  to  travel  or  visit  her  friends, 
and  lately  had  actually  instituted  a  system  of 
espionage  of  all  her  correspondence.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  he  was  afraid  she  would 
write  something  or  say  something  that  would 
cause  an  investigation  of  her  affairs  before  he 
had  finished  a  great  scientific  work  on  which 
he  was  engaged,  and  from  which,  as  he  in 
formed  her  almost  every  day,  he  expected  to 
derive  great  profit  as  well  as  reputation. 

Miss  Kosley's  affection  for  her  uncle,  whose 
mind  was  probably  unsettled,  had  prevented 
her  from  appealing  to  the  neighbors,  by 
whom  the  old  gentleman  was  evidently  much 
disliked,  and  who  had  already  talked  about 
the  strictness  with  which  he  treated  his  niece, 
although  they  did  not  know  the  extent  of  his 
vigilance.  Such  an  appeal,  my  companion 
said,  would  probably  have  resulted  in  his  be 
ing  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum  or  a  prison,  and 
she  had,  therefore,  confined  herself  to  efforts  to 


250       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

open  a  correspondence  with  the  outside  world. 
If  she  could  not  in  this  way  bring  her  case 
to  the  knowledge  of  friends,  she  might,  at 
least,  obtain  the  assistance  of  an  unpreju 
diced  and  dispassionate  lawyer,  who,  without 
making  her  uncle  the  subject  of  public  scan 
dal,  would  quietly  obtain  for  her  an  allow 
ance  sufficient  for  her  support,  and  let  her 
uncle  keep  the  rest.  Thus,  under  legal  pro 
tection,  she  would  get  out  into  the  world  and 
seek  her  friends,  leaving  her  uncle  to  go  on 
with  his  experiments  and  expenses  without 
fear  of  disturbance  from  her.  If  he  could  be 
sure  that  he  were  in  no  danger  of  an  investi 
gation  of  his  guardianship  he  would  be  quite 
willing,  she  believed,  to  let  her  go  wherever 
she  chose. 

I  did  not  interrupt  her  story.  It  was  told 
with  great  directness  and  clearness,  owing,  no 
doubt,  to  her  having  previously  written  it. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  when  she  had  finished, 
"  you  are  a  lawyer ;  will  you  take  my  case, 
will  you  advise  me  ?  " 

"  Most  gladly  will  I  do  that,"  I  said.  "  I 
will  take  counsel  of  the  heads  of  the  law  firm 
with  which  I  am  connected.  I  will  manage 
the  matter  in  the  quietest  and  most  private 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   251 

way,  mentioning  no  names  until  it  is  neces 
sary.  You  may  suppose  that  I  have  not  had 
experience  enough  to  conduct  an  affair  which 
demands  such  delicacy,  prudence,  and  knowl 
edge,  but  I  assure  you  that  the  firm  of  Round- 
man,  Bostwick  &  Unger  stands  in  the  highest 
rank  of  the  profession.  I  will  remember  all 
that  you  have  told  me,  and  I  will  carefully 
study  the  paper  you  have  given  me.  I  will 
find  the  family  of  your  father's  partner.  I 
will  put  you  into  communication  with  them, 
for  I  can  manage  a  correspondence  for  you. 
In  fact,  I  will  attend  to  anything  you  wish." 

"  That  is  very  good  of  you,"  she  said.  "  I 
believe  that  lawyers  are  as  kind  as  doctors. 
When  I  succeeded  in  getting  my  letter  into  the 
balloon,  I  really  had  great  hopes  that  some 
thing  would  come  of  it,  but  I  did  not  believe 
that  I  would  so  soon  have  the  chance  of 
speaking  to  a  lawyer  and  putting  my  affairs 
into  his  hands.  I  think  it  is  wonderful." 

"  I  consider  it  one  of  the  lucky  chances  of 
my  life,"  said  I,  "  that  I  happened  to  be  the 
one  who  discovered  that  balloon." 

"  It  was  a  happy  thing  for  me,"  she  said, 
"  for  you  came  so  quickly.  Now  there  is 
something  I  have  just  thought  of.  Wouldn't 


252       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

it  be  well,  before  you  do  anything  else,  to 
find  out  where  the  Grants  live — I  mean  my 
Grants ;  then,  if  when  my  uncle  first  hears 
from  you  or  your  firm,  he  should  become 
excited  and  angry,  so  that  I  should  be  afraid 
of  him — and  there  have  been  times  when  I 
have  been  a  little  afraid  of  him — I  might 
quietly  escape  from  this  place  and  go  to  the 
Grants?" 

This  proposition  alarmed  me.  "My  dear 
young  lady,"  I  replied,  "  if  you  suspect  any 
such  danger  as  that  we  must  all  be  very  care 
ful.  In  no  event  must  you  try  to  get  away 
from  here  without  assistance.  Any  attempt 
of  the  kind  would  be  extremely  hazardous,  for 
your  uncle  will  be  extraordinarily  watchful, 
and  in  his  state  of  mind  there  is  no  knowing 
what  might  happen,  and  in  any  case  you 
must  not  travel  by  yourself.  Don't  think  of 
doing  anything  of  the  sort  without  my  know 
ing  it.  It  may  be  well  for  me  to  stay  near 
you  after  negotiations  have  been  opened  with 
your  uncle.  I  can  take  lodgings  in  the  vil 
lage  and  we  can  arrange  signals,  so  that  if 
you  think  you  ought  to  leave  this  house  I 
shall  be  ready  to  take  you  wherever  you 
want  to  go.  If  your  Grants  are  too  far  away 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   253 

I  will  take  you  to  my  Grants.  My  mother 
and  sister  will  be  glad  to  receive  you." 

"  How  good  you  are,"  she  said,  and  she 
held  out  her  hand.  I  took  it  and  did  not  im 
mediately  release  it.  I  think  she  supposed 
that  this  was  because  I  wished  to  take  leave 
of  her. 

"  Good-by,"  she  said,  as  she  gently  with 
drew  her  hand,  "  good-by ;  I  shall  think  of 
other  things  to  say  to  you,  of  course,  but  I 
ought  not  to  keep  you  any  longer,  and  some 
body  might  come  out  before  you  could  get 
over  the  wall." 

I  did  not  want  to  go ;  I  was  not  at  that 
moment  afraid  of  anyone.  I  was  sure  I  had 
not  thought  of  all  the  things  I  ought  to 
say.  Happily  one  of  these  things  now  came 
to  me. 

"I  will  tell  you  what  you  ought  to  do," 
I  said.  "  You  should  write  a  letter  to  your 
Grants  ;  then  I  can  give  it  to  them  if  I  see 
them,  or  send  it  to  them  even  if  they  are  in 
California  or  abroad.  Now  is  your  chance  to 
communicate  with  your  friends." 

"But  I  cannot  write  a  letter  before  you 
go,"  said  she. 

"  Oh,  I  will  leave  you  and  come  back  again 


254      A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

this  afternoon.  Then  you  can  give  me  the 
letter." 

"  I  shall  not  say  anything  more  about  your 
kindness,"  said  she,  "because  there  is  so 
much  of  it.  About  three  o'clock  will  be  a 
good  time,  and  do  not  show  yourself  unless 
you  see  me." 

She  raised  a  little  watch  that  was  dangling 
at  her  belt,  and  looked  at  it. 

"  Dear  me !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  it  is  after 
one  o'clock.  I  had  not  the  least  idea  it  was 
so  late." 

She  rose,  and  as  I  perceived  that  she 
wanted  to  see  me  safely  off  before  she  went 
to  the  house,  I  assured  her  that  I  would  be 
back  at  three,  and  jumping  into  the  pear-tree 
easily  cleared  the  wall. 

I  went  back  to  the  inn  for  my  luncheon. 

"  Did  you  see  all  the  people  I  told  you  the 
names  of  ?  "  said  my  host. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  but  I  shall  stay  here  for 
the  rest  of  the  day." 

"  You  didn't  get  out  to  old  Eosley's,  I  sup 
pose,"  he  continued ;  "  but  it  wouldn't  be  much 
use  unless  you've  got  books  about  balloons  or 
stars." 

"  I  may  get  out  there  this  afternoon,"  said 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   255 

I,  thinking  it  well  to  divert  suspicion  if  my 
course  should  be  noticed. 

At  about  a  quarter  before  three  I  was  in 
the  cedar-tree  looking  over  the  garden  wall. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  I  saw  her  coming, 
and  then  in  a  moment  I  was  in  the  garden. 
She  hurried  toward  me. 

"  It  wasn't  necessary  to  get  over  the  wall," 
she  said.  "  I  am  so  afraid  you  will  be  seen. 
I  thought  you  would  reach  down  and  take 
the  letter.  But  now  that  you  are  here,  please 
come  into  the  arbor.  You  cannot  be  seen 
from  the  house  there.  Here  is  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Grant ;  perhaps  you  would  like  to  look 
over  it.  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  hurry, 
for  my  uncle  is  in  a  very  bad  way  to-da}r. 
He  was  angry  because  I  was  two  minutes  late 
to  lunch,  and  he  may  send  for  me  or  come  for 
me  at  any  minute.  He  was  greatly  disturbed 
when  he  found  his  pigeon  without  anything 
on  its  wing,  and  has  since  been  expecting  a 
letter  from  the  finder,  and  as  none  has  come 
he  is  very  cross  and  out  of  humor  with  all  the 
world." 

I  had  no  time  to  waste  in  reading  her  letter. 
I  glanced  over  it  and  told  her  that  no  doubt 
she  had  stated  everything  correctly,  and  that 


256       A8  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

I  would  see  tliat  it  reached  Mrs.  Grant  if  she 
were  alive.  Then  I  stood  and  looked  down 
on  that  beautiful  young  face,  not  happy  as  it 
had  been  in  the  morning,  but  troubled  and 
anxious.  I  could  not  bear  to  go  away  and 
leave  her  with  this  half-crazy  and  selfish  old 
man.  It  was  not  safe,  it  was  not  right,  that 
she  should  be  here.  Earnestly  and  quickly  I 
told  her  what  I  thought. 

She  looked  up  at  me  with  tears  in  her  eyes 
and  seemed  about  to  speak  when  suddenly 
she  started. 

"  Hark !  "  said  she,  "  I  think  my  uncle  is 
calling  me.  Yes,  he  is." 

At  this  instant  there  came  a  loud  call,  or, 
rather,  shout,  from  the  house.  She  turned  pale. 

' '  It  is  not  like  him  to  do  that.  I  must  run," 
she  said,  "  or  he  will  be  here.  Let  me  go,  and 
then  hurry  away  as  fast  as  you  can." 

I  had  seized  her  by  the  arm  to  detain  her 
an  instant.  "  I  shall  not  go,"  I  said  quickly, 
"  I  shall  stay  behind  the  garden  wall  until  I 
know  you  are  not  in  danger.  When  you  have 
a  chance  come  out  and  let  me  know ;  I  shall 
be  there." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  mine  without  a  word 
and  then  she  fled. 


A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   257 

I  sat  on  the  ground  at  the  back  of  the  wall, 
listening.  The  place  was  so  secluded  that  if 
no  one  had  come  into  the  cornfield,  and  there 
was  no  agricultural  reason  why  anyone 
should  do  so  at  this  time  of  the  year,  I  might 
have  camped  there  for  a  week.  I  was  afraid 
to  stand  in  a  tree,  for  fear  I  might  move  the 
branches,  but  from  where  I  was  I  thought  I 
could  hear  the  lightest  footstep  or  the  faintest 
call.  After  a  time  I  took  out  my  watch  and 
looked  at  it. 

It  was  nearly  four  o'clock.  Almost  im 
mediately  after  that  a  little  gravel  stone  came 
over  the  wall  and  fell  down  near  me.  Instant 
ly  I  was  in  the  tree  looking  over  the  wall. 
She  stood  almost  beneath  me. 

"Hush!"  she  whispered.  "Do  not  get 
over  the  wall  nor  speak.  I  heard  the  click  of 
your  watch  and  knew  you  must  be  there.  Get 
down  again  and  wait,  please." 

I  obeyed  her  implicitly.  I  did  not  even 
hesitate  long  enough  to  see  what  she  did. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  I  waited,  but  sud 
denly  I  was  startled  by  footsteps  on  the  out 
side  of  the  wall,  and  looking  around  I  saw 
Miss  Rosley  approaching  me.  Her  face  was 
pale  as  she  put  her  finger  on  her  lips. 


258      AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

"I  will  go  through  the  corn,"  she  whis 
pered,  "to  the  end  of  the  field.  Meet  me 
there."  And  without  another  word  she  dis 
appeared  between  two  rows  of  tall,  waving 
green  blades. 

For  a  moment  I  stood,  not  knowing  what 
to  do.  It  was  plain  she  did  not  wish  me  to 
follow  her,  and  as  I  did  not  know  the  extent 
or  conformation  of  the  cornfield,  I  thought  it 
best  to  go  out  to  the  lane  and  so  keep  on  a 
parallel  course  with  her.  The  cornfield  was  a 
large  one,  and  when  I  came  to  the  end  of  it  I 
found  a  piece  of  wooded  land  with  a  little 
stream  running  under  the  trees.  I  got  over 
a  rough  stone  wall  and  pushed  my  way 
through  the  underbrush  and  ferns  to  the  spot 
which  I  supposed  was  as  far  from  the  lane  as 
the  point  where  Miss  Eosley  entered  the  field. 

I  had  not  misjudged  the  distance.  Soon  I 
saw  a  speck  of  white  and  then  her  two  hands 
pushing  aside  the  bending  leaves.  I  pulled 
down  the  bars  of  a  low  rail  fence  in  front  of 
me  and  hurried  to  meet  her.  Her  face  was 
flushed. 

"  Are  you  not  tired  ?  "  I  whispered. 

"  Oh,  you  can  speak  out  now,"  she  said. 
"  I  am  tired,  for  it  was  so  rough." 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   259 

I  assisted  her  to  a  low  rock  near  the  stream, 
and  there  we  sat  down.  She  took  off  her  hat 
and  fanned  herself. 

"  As  soon  as  I  get  my  breath,"  she  said,  "  I 
will  tell  you  about  everything." 

I  was  content  to  Avait  as  long  as  she 
pleased,  but  she  soon  began  : 

"  I  found  my  uncle  in  a  perfect  fury,"  she 
said.  "  He  has  noticed  that  the  pigeon  he 
put  in  the  balloon  is  in  the  habit  of  coming 
to  my  balcony.  He  suspects  me  of  taking 
the  paper  from  its  wing.  And,  more  than 
that,  he  thinks  that  in  some  way  I  have  ob 
tained  possession  of  the  letter  from  the  per 
son  who  found  the  balloon,  and  that  I  intend 
to  make  some  use  of  it.  I  tried  to  quiet  him 
in  every  way  that  I  could,  but  it  was  of  no 
use.  Presently  he  shook  his  great,  long 
finger  at  me  and  said :  '  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  wait  for  the  letter  until  this  after 
noon's  mail  comes  in  and  no  longer.  You 
can  go  to  the  post-office  and  get  me  that  let 
ter.  I  want  you  to  go  and  nobody  else.  You 
are  the  best  person  to  go  after  it.'  I  knew 
very  well  what  he  meant  by  that.  He  thought 
that  I  had  the  letter  and  that  this  would  give 
me  a  chance  to  produce  it.  It  seems  strange 


260      AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

that  he  should  let  me  go  to  the  post-office 
alone,  but  his  mind  must  have  been  greatly 
upset,  and,  besides,  I  don't  believe  he  thought 
there  was  any  need  of  my  going.  As  soon  as 
I  could  I  went  into  the  garden  to  see  if  you 
were  still  there,  and  then  I  put  on  my  hat 
and  went  out.  If  he  saw  me  he  might  think 
I  was  going  to  the  post-office,  although  the 
mail  does  not  come  in  until  six  o'clock.  And 
now,"  her  eyes  filling  with  tears  as  she  spoke, 
"  I  cannot  go  back.  I  would  not  dare  to  go 
back  to  the  house  without  the  letter.  I  think 
he  is  entirely  crazy.  I  have  not  a  thing  with 
me,"  she  went  on  to  say,  "  except  my  gloves 
and  my  hat.  I  can  go  to  stay  with  some  of 
the  village  people,  but  they  are  so  near  my 
uncle's  house." 

I  took  one  of  her  hands  in  both  of  mine. 
"  My  dear  young  lady,"  I  said,  "  you  go  to 
none  of  them.  They  would  drive  you  crazy 
with  their  questions.  They  could  not  help 
you  in  the  least.  I  will  take  you  to  a  place 
of  safety." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  she. 

I  could  not  instantly  formulate  my  inten 
tions,  for  the  situation  had  been  very  sud 
denly  thrust  upon  me.  It  was  a  strange  one, 


A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   261 

and  required  consideration.  She  waited  a 
few  moments  for  me  to  speak,  withdrawing 
her  hand  the  while. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  what  I  thought 
when  I  came  out  here.  I  thought  that  I 
would  go  back  to  my  school  at  Stamford, 
which  I  left  more  than  a  year  ago.  It  is  va 
cation  now,  but  one  of  the  ladies  always  stays 
there,  and  it  is  the  only  place  I  have  to  go 
to.  I  would  be  afraid  to  take  a  train  at  the 
village,  because  someone  might  see  me  and 
interfere  with  me,  but  there  is  a  station  about 
two  miles  below  where  I  would  not  be  likely 
to  meet  anyone  who  knows  me.  My  great 
difficulty  is  that  I  have  not  any  money.  I 
do  not  mind  not  having  any  clothes  or  things, 
for  Miss  Humphreys  can  give  me  what  I 
really  need,  but  I  must  buy  my  ticket,  and  I 
thought  perhaps  you  would  lend  me  the 
money." 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  right,"  said  I,  "  you  need 
not  trouble  yourself  about  money,  but  Stam 
ford  is  a  long  way  from  here,  and  you  are  not 
prepared  for  travel,"  and  as  I  spoke  I  looked 
at  her  thin  white  dress.  "  You  can  do  much 
better  than  that.  Let  me  take  you  to  my 
own  home.  It  is  not  so  far,  and  my  mother 


262       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTIIfifi 

and  sister  will  be  glad  to  welcome  and  take 
care  of  you.  There  you  can  wait  until  you 
hear  from  your  Mrs.  Grant,  or  you  can  write 
to  your  teacher,  or  do  what  you  please." 

"  You  are  very  generous  and  good,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  could  not  do  that.  Your  mother 
does  not  know  me,  and,  in  fact,  you  do  not 
know  me.  What  would  she  think  were  you 
to  take  me  to  her  ?  No,  I  must  go  to  some 
one  who  knows  me — to  my  school.  You  may 
wonder  that  I  have  never  written  to  my 
teachers,  but  there  were  reasons  why  I  could 
not.  For  a  long  time  they  have  been  very 
severe  upon  my  uncle.  I  know  he  owes  them 
money,  and  he  has  treated  them  very  rudely. 
If  I  had  written  to  them  one  of  them  would 
have  come  here,  and  there  would  have  been 
great  trouble.  And  until  this  day  I  never 
thought  of  running  away  and  going  to  them, 
but  now  I  must  do  it.  I  can  walk  to  Still- 
well,  and  a  train  leaves  there  about  ten  min 
utes  before  six,  so  there  is  plenty  of  time. 
As  you  are  so  kind  as  to  let  me  have  the 
money  for  my  fare  I  am  sure  I  can  easily  get 
to  Stamford." 

I  saw  that  her  scheme  was  better  than 
mine.  Her  words  had  called  up  in  my  mind 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   263 

a  picture  of  my  mother  and  sister  when  I 
presented  myself  before  them  and  requested 
them  to  open  their  arms  to  a  strange  young 
woman,  very  beautiful,  but  without  baggage, 
which  was  a  truer  picture  than  the  one  my 
generosity  had  at  first  evoked. 

"  Since  you  wish  it,"  I  said,  "  you  shall  go 
to  Stamford.  But  you  cannot  go  alone, 
and  I  shall  go  with  you.  You  will  have  to 
leave  this  train  at  the  ferry  ;  you  must  cross  to 
New  York  and  take  another  train,  and  it  will 
be  dark  before  you  get  to  the  end  of  your 
journey.  No,  do  not  say  a  word  against  it ; 
you  are  under  my  wing,  and  I  shall  keep  you 
there  until  I  give  you  to  your  friends,  so  that 
is  settled.  You  say  I  do  not  know  you,  but 
I  am  determined  you  shall  know  me,  and  know 
that  I  am  not  the  kind  of  a  man  to  let  you 
go  off  alone  to  Stamford  at  this  time  of  day." 

She  looked  up  at  me  with  a  smile. 

"  Are  all  lawyers  as  kind-hearted  and 
thoughtful  as  you  are  ?  "  she  said. 

"It  depends  on  the  lawyer,"  I  answered, 
and  then  in  a  moment  added,  "  and  also  upon 
the  client.  And  now,  shall  we  walk  on  to 
Stillwell?" 

She  rose  without  a  word,  and  together  we 


264       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

went  out  of  the  woods  into  the  green  and 
shaded  lane. 

That  walk  to  Stillwell  was  a  charming  one. 
The  afternoon  sky,  the  summer  air,  and  the 
gentle  confidences  of  my  companion  harmo 
nized  like  the  colors  of  a  tapestry. 

But  as  we  approached  Stillwell  there  was 
a  change  in  the  mood  of  Miss  Rosley.  To 
the  sense  of  peaceful  relief,  arising  from  the 
feeling  that  she  was  safe  and  being  cared  for, 
there  succeeded  a  very  natural  sadness  when 
she  thought  that  she  was  thus  leaving  her 
only  home  and  her  only  relative,  and  one 
who  formerly  had  been  so  kind  to  her.  As 
she  spoke  of  this  tears  began  to  roll  down 
her  cheeks.  I  said  everything  I  could  to 
comfort  and  cheer  her,  and  among  other 
things  I  suggested  that  she  write  to  her  un 
cle  and  let  him  know  where  she  was  going. 
He  would  not  disturb  her  there.  She  readily 
agreed  to  this,  and  as  there  was  plenty  of 
time  she  sat  down  on  a  stone  by  the  road 
side,  and  with  my  pencil  and  on  a  page  from 
my  notebook  she  wrote  to  him,  and  when  we 
reached  the  station  I  procured  an  envelope 
and  mailed  it  there. 

I  had  a  great  deal  to  do  to  console  that 


TOGETHER   WE   WENT  OUT  OF  THE   WOODS. 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   265 

young  creature  and  to  keep  her  from  crying 
during  the  long  and  varied  journey,  but  I 
succeeded  fairly  well.  When  we  reached 
New  York  I  found  we  had  an  hour  and  a  half 
to  wait.  "We  dined  at  a  restaurant,  and  leav 
ing  her  there  to  finish  her  dessert  I  went  out 
and  bought  her  a  jacket,  for  the  air  was  grow 
ing  very  cool.  When  I  brought  this  to  her 
her  eyes  sparkled  with  delight  and  surprise. 

"  I  believe  you  are  a  good  fairy,"  she  said. 
"  I  was  shivering  when  I  came  in  here,  and 
was  just  wondering  how  I  could  go  out  into 
the  night  air  with  nothing  but  this  thin  dress. 
And  how  in  the  world  did  you  know  this 
would  fit  me  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  my  eyes  so  poor,"  I  asked, 
"  that  by  this  time  they  are  not  able  to  meas 
ure  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know,"  she  said,  as  we  went 
out,  "that  lawyers  had  such  good  eyes." 

It  was  after  nine  o'clock  when  we  reached 
the  school  of  the  Misses  Humphreys,  and  the 
elder  sister,  who,  at  the  time,  had  the  house 
nearly  to  herself,  was  just  about  to  go  to  her 
chamber  when  we  arrived.  I  shall  never  for 
get  the  surprise  of  that  rather  more  than 
middle-aged  lady  when  she  beheld  her  former 


266       AS  ONE   WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

pupil  and  myself.  She  took  Miss  Kosley  to 
her  arms,  and  when  the  natural  agitation  of 
that  young  lady  had  subsided  I  was  intro 
duced,  and  a  very  brief  but  direct  explanation 
of  her  appearance  was  given. 

"I  thought  you  would  have  to  leave  him," 
said  Miss  Humphreys.  "  I  knew  you  could 
not  live  there,  but  I  never  expected  you  to 
run  away  in  this  fashion.  And  so  this  gen 
tleman  is  your  lawyer  ?  "  And  as  she  spoke 
she  scanned  me  very  thoroughly  through  her 
spectacles. 

I  soon  took  my  leave,  promising  to  call 
in  the  morning  for  instructions  from  my 
client.  I  went  to  a  hotel,  and  not  until  I 
reached  it  did  I  remember  that  I,  as  well 
as  Miss  Rosley,  was  unencumbered  with 
baggage. 

The  next  morning  I  presented  myself  at 
Miss  Humphreys's  school.  I  had  first  an  in 
terview  with  the  old  lady. 

"  Miss  Kosley  has  told  me  her  story,"  she 
said,  "balloon  and  everything,  and  I  must 
say  the  affair  is  entirely  different  from  the 
circumstances  by  which  we  are  ordinarily 
surrounded.  She  has  also  explained  to  me 
that,  although  you  are  apparently  too  young 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   267 

a  man  to  Lave  had  much  law  experience,  you 
are  connected  with  a  prominent  legal  firm 
of  which  I  have  heard.  I  hope,  sir,  that  you 
will  submit  this  business,  with  all  its  details, 
to  their  most  careful  consideration." 

"Of  course  I  shall  do  that,"  I  said.  "I 
would  not  think  of  acting  in  such  a  matter 
without  the  concurrence  of  the  firm." 

She  smiled. 

"I  hope  you  may  have  their  concurrence  in 
every  way,"  she  said.  "  Miss  Rosley  has  told 
me  how  extraordinarily  kind  and  thoughtful 
you  have  been,  and  has  stated  that  if  you  had 
known  her  all  your  lifetime,  instead  of  part 
of  a  day,  your  conduct  toward  her  could  not 
have  been  more  tender  or  sympathetic.  I 
inferred,  indeed " 

But  she  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  at 
this  moment  Miss  Eosley  entered  the  room. 
She  wore  a  morning-gown  a  little  too  large 
for  her,  but  she  was  quite  as  lovely  as  if  it 
had  fitted  her.  She  greeted  me  warmly. 

"  I  have  come,"  I  said,  "  to  take  my  legal 
instructions." 

We  sat  down  on  a  sofa,  and  Miss  Hum 
phreys  took  a  chair  at  the  other  end  of  the 
loner  room.  She  seemed  to  think  that  when 


268   A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

a  client  was  giving  instructions  to  a  lawyer 
the  presence  of  a  witness  was  necessary. 

My  instructions  were  very  simple.  If  pos 
sible  I  was  to  get  an  allowance  for  her,  which 
would  support  her,  but  in  no  event  was  I  to 
do  anything  which  would  bring  a  scandal 
upon  her  uncle  or  cause  his  property  to  be 
sold.  She  had  written  again  to  him,  telling 
him  that  he  need  fear  nothing  from  her  in 
this  respect. 

"  A  much  too  affectionate  letter,  I  should 
say,"  interpolated  Miss  Humphreys  from  the 
other  end  of  the  room. 

When  our  business  talk  had  been  conclud 
ed  Miss  Rosley  said  to  me  in  a  rather  lower 
voice  than  that  in  which  she  had  been  speak 
ing: 

"I  can  never  thank  you  enough  for  all  you 
have  done  for  me,  but  I  shall " 

"  Oh,  do  not  speak  of  that,"  said  I ;  "  wait 
until  I  have  done  more.  You  do  not  know 
how  glad  I  am  to  be  able  to  serve  you." 

There  was  an  evident  restlessness  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  owing,  perhaps,  to  an 
inability  to  catch  words  spoken  in  a  low 
tone  and  at  a  considerable  distance,  and 
which  seemed  to  be  a  hint  to  speak  louder  or 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   269 

to  bring  the  conversation  to  a  close.  Under 
the  circumstances  I  thought  the  latter  would 
be  the  best  course. 

"  I  must  go  now,"  I  said,  "  but  as  soon  as 
anything  definite  is  done  in  regard  to  this 
business  I  will  inform  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  be  so  glad  to 
have  you  write- and  tell  me  everything." 

"  Of  course  I  can  write,"  I  said,  "  but  it 
would  be  better  for  me  to  come  to  you 
wherever  you  may  be  and  report  or  consult. 
Which  would  you  prefer  ?  "  I  asked,  daring 
to  speak  in  quite  a  low  tone.  "  Shall  I  write 
or  come?  " 

She  looked  up  at  me  as  we  stood  together, 
and  said : 

"  Come." 

I  reached  home  that  afternoon,  and  the 
next  day  I  went  to  see  Clara.  I  found  her 
on  fire  to  know  what  had  happened.  As 
clearly  and  concisely  as  I  could  I  put  before 
her  the  event  which  had  occurred  since  I 
saw  her.  She  showed  the  greatest  interest 
in  every  detail  of  my  account.  In  fact,  her 
manner  indicated  a  craving  for  detail.  "When 
I  had  made  what  I  thought  was  a  good 
finish  to  my  story,  she  said : 


270       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

"Now  then,  Tom,  there  is  one  thing  I 
particularly  want  to  know ;  when  you  were 
talking  to  this  girl  about  our  willingness  to 
help  her,  and  when  you  were  doing  all  those 
things  you  did,  did  you  always  remember  to 
speak  to  her  as  one  woman  to  another  ?  " 

This  question  struck  me  dumb.  I  did  not 
know  what  to  say.  A  backward  mental 
glance  at  the  events  of  the  past  two  days 
made  it  still  harder  to  answer.  Then  up 
stood  Clara,  her  face  somewhat  pale. 

"  Now,  be  honest,  Tom,  did  you  ?  " 

I  looked  straight  into  her  eyes.  "  Of 
course  I  did  not,"  I  said.  "  I  could  not  do 
it,  and  no  man  who  is  the  right  sort  of  a 
man  could  do  it.  But  I  spoke  to  her  as  a 
lawyer  to  his  client.  You  must  remember 
she  is  my  first  client." 

Clara  regarded  me  for  a  moment  with  a 
smile  on  her  face,  a  very  queer  smile.  "  No, 
Tom,"  she  said,  "  she  is  not  your  client  at 
all.  You  know  we  were  to  act  together  in 
this  matter,  and  as  I  know  nothing  of  law 
we  could  not  be  her  lawyers.  There  is  my 
cousin  Charles,  who  is  a  lawyer,  and  I  know 
he  would  be  very  glad  to  take  up  this  case." 

"  Your   cousin !  "  I    exclaimed   with   con- 


AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   271 

siderable  excitement.  "  You  do  not  suppose 
tbat  lie  would  speak  with  her  as  one  woman 
to  another !  " 

"  In  this  case,"  said  Clara,  "  it  would  not 
matter." 

Of  course  I  agreed  to  give  up  this,  my  first 
case.  It  was  reasonable  that  I  should  do  so, 
and  I  did  not  argue  about  it.  But  it  filled 
my  soul  with  an  active  jealousy  to  think  of 
that  handsome  cousin  Charles  taking  charge 
of  my  client's  affairs.  Against  this  I  argued, 
but  my  arguments  were  of  no  avail.  Clara's 
cousin  was  a  good  lawyer ;  he  was  older  than 
I ;  he  had  had  experience  and  he  had  ex 
cellent  partners,  and  the  matter  ended  by  my 
giving  him  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Miss 
Eosley,  and  by  putting  in  his  hands  her 
letter  to  Mrs.  Grant,  her  fortunes  and  her 
destinies. 

I  thought  of  writing  an  explanatory  note 
to  the  young  lady,  but  Clara  believed  that 
this  was  needless.  Her  cousin  could  explain 
everything,  and  if  a  note  from  us  should 
prove  necessary  she  and  I  could  easily  write 
one  when  the  time  came  to  do  so.  The  time 
for  a  note  from  both  of  us  did  not  arrive,  but 
in  about  a  week  after  I  had  parted  with  Miss 


272       AS  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER 

Kosley  at  the  Humphreys's  school,  and  be 
fore  Clara's  cousin  had  communicated  with 
her,  I  received  a  letter  from  her.  That  letter 
I  carried  unopened  in  my  pocket  for  three 
days. 

I  could  not  bring  myself  to  believe  that 
it  was  likely  to  be  a  letter  which  should  be 
read  and  answered  conjointly  by  Clara  and 
myself,  nor  could  I  prevail  upon  myself  that 
under  the  circumstances  I  ought  to  read  it 
alone.  Of  course  it  might  be  a  very  simple 
business  note,  but  whenever  I  thought  of  it 
I  seemed  to  hear  a  gentle,  tender  call  for 
sympathy  and  help.  I  seemed  to  see  a  pair 
of  blue  eyes  dimmed  with  tears,  and  two 
little  hands  outstretched  toward  me.  These 
fancies  may  have  been  but  stuff  and  non 
sense,  but  they  made  such  an  impression 
upon  me  that  on  the  third  day  I  burned  that 
letter  without  reading  it,  and  I  never  received 
another. 

Two  years  have  passed  since  my  visit  to 
Wolverton.  I  am  married  to  Clara,  and  if  I 
should  be  lying  in  a  hammock  and  should 
see  a  speck  in  the  blue  summer  sky  I  should 
call  her  to  come  to  look  at  it  with  me. 

Clara's  cousin  Charles  is  soon  to  be  mar- 


A3  ONE  WOMAN  TO  ANOTHER   273 

ried  to  Miss  Kosley.  He  managed  her  af 
fairs,  I  am  told,  as  well  as  could  be  expected 
of  him,  and,  although  he  did  not  get  very 
much  out  of  the  business,  he  got  quite  as 
much  as  he  deserved.  I  never  heard — for  I 
took  particular  pains  not  to  hear — what  Miss 
Rosley  thought  of  her  change  of  lawyers. 
Charles  is  not  one  of  my  intimates,  and  we 
never  have  any  confidences. 

What  I  have  here  told  was  recently  re 
called  by  Clara,  who  came  to  me  with  a  piece 
of  gray  paper  in  her  hand. 

"  I  was  looking  for  some  stamps  in  your 
desk,"  she  said,  "  and  I  found  this  old  postal 
note  for  ninety-five  cents.  I  remember  it 
very  well.  Shall  I  return  it  to  Grace  Kosley, 
and  write  on  the  back  of  it,  '  As  one  woman 
to  another  ? '  I  really  think  she  ought  to 
have  it." 

I  took  it  from  her.  "No,"  said  I,  "I 
think  I  shall  keep  it ;  but  if  you  want  to  put 
anything  on  it  you  can  write : 

"  l  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that.'  " 


MY  WELL  AND  WHAT  CAME  OUT 
OF  IT 


MY  WELL  AND  WHAT  CAME  OUT 
OF  IT 

EARLY  in  my  married  life  I  bought  a 
small  country  estate  which  my  wife  and 
I  looked  upon  as  a  paradise.  After  enjoying 
its  delight  for  a  little  more  than  a  year  our 
souls  were  saddened  by  the  discovery  that 
our  Eden  contained  a  serpent.  This  was  an 
insufficient  water  supply. 

It  had  been  a  rainy  season  when  we  first 
went  there,  and  for  a  long  time  our  cisterns 
gave  us  full  aqueous  satisfaction,  but  early 
this  year  a  drought  had  set  in  and  we  were 
obliged  to  be  exceedingly  careful  of  our 
water. 

It  was  quite  natural  that  the  scarcity  of 
water  for  domestic  purposes  should  affect  my 
wife  much  more  than  it  did  me,  and  perceiv 
ing  the  discontent  which  was  growing  in  her 
mind,  I  determined  to  dig  a  well. 

The  very  next  day  I  began  to  look  for  a 
well- digger.  Such  an  individual  was  not  easy 


278  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

to  find,  for  in  the  region  in  which  I  lived 
wells  had  become  unfashionable,  but  I  deter 
mined  to  persevere  in  my  search,  and  in 
about  a  week  I  found  a  well-digger. 

He  was  a  man  of  somewhat  rough  exterior, 
but  of  an  ingratiating  turn  of  mind.  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  it  was  his  earnest  desire  to 
serve  me. 

"And  now  then,"  said  he,  when  we  had 
had  a  little  conversation  about  terms,  "the 
first  thing  to  do  is  to  find  out  where  there  is 
water.  Have  you  a  peach-tree  on  the  place?" 
We  walked  to  such  a  tree  and  he  cut  there 
from  a  forked  twig. 

"  I  thought,"  said  I,  "  that  divining  rods 
were  always  of  hazel  wood." 

"  A  peach  twig  will  do  quite  as  well,"  said 
lie,  and  I  have  since  found  that  he  was  right. 
Divining  rods  of  peach  will  turn  and  find 
water  quite  as  well  as  those  of  hazel  or  any 
other  kind  of  wood. 

He  took  an  end  of  the  twig  in  each  hand, 
and  with  the  point  projecting  in  front  of 
him,  he  slowly  walked  along  over  the  grass 
in  my  little  orchard.  Presently  the  point  of 
the  twig  seemed  to  bend  itself  downward 
toward  the  ground. 


(JAME  OUT  OF  IT  271) 

"  There,"  said  he,  stopping ;  "  you  will  find 
water  here." 

"  I  do  not  want  a  well  here,"  said  I ;  "  this  is 
at  the  bottom  of  a  hill  and  my  barnyard  is  at 
the  top ;  besides,  it  is  too  far  from  the  house." 

"  Very  good,"  said  he  ;  "  we  will  try  some 
where  else." 

His  rod  turned  at  several  other  places,  but 
I  had  objections  to  all  of  them.  A  sanitary 
engineer  had  once  visited  me  and  he  had 
given  me  a  great  deal  of  advice  about  drain 
age,  and  I  knew  what  to  avoid. 

We  crossed  the  ridge  of  the  hill  into  the 
low  ground  on  the  other  side.  Here  were  no 
buildings,  nothing  which  would  interfere  with 
the  purity  of  a  well.  My  well-digger  walked 
slowly  over  the  ground  with  his  divining  rod. 
Very  soon  he  exclaimed : 

"Here  is  water!"  and  picking  up  a  stick, 
he  sharpened  one  end  of  it  and  drove  it  into 
the  ground.  Then  he  took  a  string  from  his 
pocket,  and  making  a  loop  in  one  end  he  put 
it  over  the  stick. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  a  circle  four  feet  in 
diameter,"  he  said.  "We  have  to  dig  the 
well  as  wide  as  that,  you  know." 


280  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

"  But  I  do  not  want  a  well  there,"  said  I. 
"  It's  too  close  to  the  wall.  I  could  not  build 
a  house  over  it.  It  would  not  do  at  all." 

He  stood  up  and  looked  at  me.  "  Well, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  will  you  tell  me  where  you 
would  like  to  have  a  well  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  I  would  like  to  have  it 
over  there  in  the  corner  of  the  hedge.  It 
would  be  near  enough  to  the  house  ;  it  would 
have  a  warm  exposure,  which  will  be  desira 
ble  in  winter,  and  the  little  house  which  I  in 
tend  to  build  over  it  would  look  better  there 
than  anywhere  else." 

He  took  his  divining  rod  and  went  to  the 
spot  I  had  indicated.  "  Is  this  the  place  ?  " 
he  asked,  wishing  to  be  sure  he  had  under 
stood  me. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied.  He  put  his  twig  in  posi 
tion,  and  in  a  few  seconds  it  turned  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  ground.  Then  he  drove  down 
a  stick,  marked  out  a  circle,  and  the  next  day 
he  came  with  two  men  and  a  derrick  and  be 
gan  to  dig  my  well. 

When  they  had  gone  down  twenty -five  feet 
they  found  water,  and  when  they  had  prog 
ressed  a  few  feet  deeper  they  began  to  be 
afraid  of  drowning.  I  thought  they  ought 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  281 

to  go  deeper,  but  the  well-digger  said  that 
they  could  not  dig  without  first  taking  out 
the  water,  and  that  the  water  came  in  as  fast 
as  they  bailed  it  out,  and  he  asked  me  to 
put  it  to  myself  and  tell  him  how  they  could 
dig  it  deeper.  I  put  the  question  to  myself 
but  could  find  no  answer.  I  also  laid  the 
matter  before  some  specialists,  and  it  was 
generally  agreed  that  if  water  came  in  as  fast 
as  it  was  taken  out,  nothing  more  could  be 
desired.  The  well  was,  therefore,  pronounced 
deep  enough.  It  was  lined  with  great  tiles, 
nearly  a  yard  in  diameter,  and  my  well- 
digger,  after  congratulating  me  on  finding 
water  so  easily,  bade  me  good-by  and  departed 
with  his  men  and  his  derrick. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  wall  which  bounded 
my  grounds,  and  near  which  my  well  had  been 
dug,  there  ran  a  country  lane,  leading  no 
where  in  particular,  which  seemed  to  be  there 
for  the  purpose  of  allowing  people  to  pass 
my  house  who  might  otherwise  be  obliged  to 
stop. 

Along  this  lane  my  neighbors  would  pass, 
and  often  strangers  drove  by,  and  as  my  well 
could  easily  be  seen  over  the  low  stone  wall,  its 
construction  had  excited  a  great  deal  of  inter- 


282  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

est.  Some  of  the  people  who  drove  by  were 
summer  folks  from  the  city,  and  I  am  sure, 
from  remarks  I  overheard,  that  it  was  thought 
a  very  queer  thing  to  dig  for  water.  Of  course 
they  must  have  known  that  people  used  to  do 
this  in  the  olden  times,  even  as  far  back  as 
the  time  of  Jacob  and  Kebecca,  but  the  ex 
pressions  of  some  of  their  faces  indicated 
that  they  remembered  that  this  was  the  nine 
teenth  century. 

My  neighbors,  however,  were  all  rural  peo 
ple,  and  much  more  intelligent  in  regard  to 
water  supplies.  One  of  them,  Phineas  Col- 
well  by  name,  took  a  more  lively  interest  in 
my  operations  than  did  anyone  else.  He 
was  a  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  who 
had  been  a  soldier.  This  fact  was  kept  alive 
in  the  minds  of  his  associates  by  his  dress,  a 
part  of  which  was  always  military.  If  he  did 
not  wear  an  old  fatigue  jacket  with  brass  but 
tons,  he  wore  his  blue  trousers,  or,  perhaps, 
a  waistcoat  that  belonged  to  his  uniform,  and 
if  he  wore  none  of  these  his  military  hat  would 
appear  upon  his  head.  I  think  he  must  also 
have  been  a  sailor,  judging  from  the  little  gold 
rings  in  his  ears.  But  when  I  first  knew  him 
he  was  a  carpenter,  who  did  mason-work  when- 


CANE  OUT  OF  IT  283 

ever  any  of  the  neighbors  had  any  jobs  of  the 
sort.  He  also  worked  in  gardens  by  the  day, 
and  had  told  me  that  he  understood  the  care  of 
horses  and  was  a  very  good  driver.  He  some 
times  worked  on  farms,  especially  at  harvest- 
time,  and  I  know  he  could  paint,  for  he  once 
showed  me  a  fence  which  he  said  he  had 
painted.  I  frequently  saw  him,  because  he 
always  seemed  to  be  either  going  to  his  work 
or  coming  from  it.  In  fact,  he  appeared  to 
consider  actual  labor  in  the  light  of  a  bad 
habit  which  he  wished  to  conceal,  and  which 
he  was  continually  endeavoring  to  reform. 

Phineas  walked  along  our  lane  at  least  once 
a  day,  and  whenever  he  saw  me  he  told  me 
something  about  the  well.  He  did  not  ap 
prove  of  the  place  I  had  selected  for  it.  If 
he  had  been  digging  a  well  he  would  have 
put  it  in  a  very  different  place.  When  I  had 
talked  with  him  for  some  time  and  explained 
why  I  had  chosen  this  spot,  he  would  say 
that  perhaps  I  was  right,  and  begin  to  talk 
of  something  else.  But  the  next  time  I  saw 
him  he  would  again  assert  that  if  he  had 
been  digging  that  well  he  would  not  have  put 
it  there. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  my  house, 


284  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

at  a  turn  of  the  lane,  lived  Mrs.  Betty  Perch. 
She  was  a  widow  with  about  twelve  children. 
A  few  of  these  were  her  own,  and  the  others 
she  had  inherited  from  two  sisters  who  had 
married  and  died,  and  whose  husbands,  hav 
ing  proved  their  disloyalty  by  marrying  again, 
were  not  allowed  by  the  indignant  Mrs.  Perch 
to  resume  possession  of  their  offspring.  The 
casual  observer  might  have  supposed  the 
number  of  these  children  to  be  very  great — 
fifteen,  or  perhaps  even  twenty — for  if  he  hap 
pened  to  see  a  group  of  them  on  the  door 
step,  he  would  see  a  lot  more  if  he  looked 
into  the  little  garden ;  and  under  some  cedar- 
trees  at  the  back  of  the  house,  there  were 
always  some  of  them  on  fine  days.  But  per 
haps  they  sought  to  increase  their  apparent 
number  and  ran  from  one  place  to  another  to 
be  ready  to  meet  observation,  as  the  famous 
clown,  Grimaldi,  who  used  to  go  through  his 
performances  at  one  London  theatre  and 
then  dash  off  in  his  paint  and  motley  to 
another,  so  that  a  perambulating  theatre- 
going  man  might  imagine  that  there  were 
two  greatest  clowns  in  the  world. 

When  Mrs.  Perch  had  time  she  sewed  for 
the  neighbors,  and  whether  she  had  time  or 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  285 

not  she  was  always  ready  to  supply  them  with 
news.  From  the  moment  she  heard  I  was 
going  to  dig  a  well  she  took  a  vital  interest 
in  it.  Her  own  water  supply  was  unsatisfac 
tory,  as  she  depended  upon  a  little  spring 
which  sometimes  dried  up  in  summer,  and 
should  my  well  turn  out  to  be  a  good  one, 
she  knew  I  would  not  object  to  her  sending 
the  children  for  pails  of  water  on  occasions. 

"  It  will  be  fun  for  them,"  she  said,  "  and 
if  your  water  really  is  good  it  will  often  come 
in  very  well  for  me.  Mr.  Colwell  tells  me," 
she  continued,  "  that  you  put  your  well  in  the 
wrong  place.  He  is  a  practical  man  and 
knows  all  about  wells,  and  I  do  hope  that  for 
your  sake  he  may  be  wrong." 

My  neighbors  were  generally  pessimists. 
Country  people  are  proverbially  prudent,  and 
pessimism  is  prudence.  "We  feel  safe  when 
we  doubt  the  success  of  another,  because  if 
he  should  succeed,  we  can  say  we  were  glad 
we  were  mistaken,  and  so  step  from  a  position 
of  good  judgment  to  one  of  generous  dispo 
sition  without  feeling  that  we  have  changed 
our  plane  of  merit.  But  the  optimist  often 
gets  himself  into  terrible  scrapes,  for  if  he  is 
wrong  he  cannot  say  he  is  glad  of  it. 


286  MY  WELL  AND  WHAT 

But  whatever  else  he  may  be,  a  pessimist 
is  depressing,  and  it  was,  therefore,  a  great 
pleasure  to  me  to  have  a  friend  who  was  an 
out-and-out  optimist.  In  fact,  he  might  be 
called  a  working  optimist.  He  lived  about 
six  miles  from  my  house,  and  had  a  hobby, 
which  was  natural  phenomena.  He  was  al 
ways  on  the  lookout  for  that  sort  of  thing, 
and  when  he  found  it  he  would  study  its 
nature  and  effect.  He  was  a  man  in  the  ma 
turity  of  youth,  and  if  the  estate  on  which  he 
lived  had  not  belonged  to  his  mother,  he 
would  have  spent  much  time  and  money  in 
investigating  its  natural  phenomena.  He 
often  drove  over  to  see  me,  and  always  told 
me  how  glad  he  would  be  if  he  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  digging  a  well. 

"  I  have  the  wildest  desire,"  he  said,  "  to 
know  what  is  in  the  earth  under  our  place, 
and  if  it  should  so  happen  in  the  course  of 
time  that  the  limits  of  earthly  existence  should 
be  reached  by — I  mean  if  the  estate  should 
come  into  my  hands — I  would  go  down,  down, 
down  until  I  had  found  out  all  that  could  be 
discovered.  To  own  a  plug  of  earth  four 
thousand  miles  long  and  only  know  what  is 
on  the  surface  of  the  upper  end  of  it  is 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  2S7 

unmanly.  We  might  as  well  be  grazing 
beasts." 

He  was  sorry  that  I  was  digging  only  for 
water,  because  water  is  a  very  commonplace 
thing,  but  he  was  quite  sure  I  would  get  it, 
and  when  my  well  was  finished  he  was  one 
of  the  first  to  congratulate  me. 

"  But  if  I  had  been  in  your  place,"  said  he, 
"  with  full  right  to  do  as  I  pleased,  I  would 
not  have  let  these  men  go  away.  I  would 
have  set  them  to  work  in  some  place  where 
there  would  be  no  danger  of  getting  water — 
at  least  for  a  long  time — and  then  you  would 
have  found  out  what  are  the  deeper  treasures 
of  your  land." 

Having  finished  my  well,  I  now  set  about 
getting  the  water  into  my  residence  near  by. 
I  built  a  house  over  the  well  and  put  in  it  a 
little  engine,  and  by  means  of  a  system  of 
pipes,  like  the  arteries  and  veins  of  the  hu 
man  body,  I  proposed  to  distribute  the  water 
to  the  various  desirable  points  in  my  house. 
The  engine  was  the  heart  which  should  start 
the  circulation,  which  should  keep  it  going, 
which  should  send  throbbing  through  every 
pipe,  the  water,  which,  if  it  wrere  not  our  life, 
was  very  necessary  to  it. 


288  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

When  all  was  ready  we  started  the  engine, 
and  in  a  very  short  time  we  discovered  that 
something  was  wrong.  For  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes  water  flowed  into  the  tank  at  the  top 
of  the  house  with  a  sound  that  was  grander 
in  the  ears  of  my  wife  and  myself  than  the 
roar  of  Niagara,  and  then  it  stopped.  Inves 
tigation  proved  that  the  flow  had  stopped  be 
cause  there  was  no  more  water  in  the  well. 

It  is  needless  to  detail  the  examinations, 
investigations,  and  the  multitude  of  counsels 
and  opinions  with  which  our  minds  were 
filled  for  the  next  few  days.  It  was  plain  to 
see  that,  although  this  well  was  fully  able  to 
meet  the  demands  of  a  hand  pump  or  of 
bailing  buckets,  the  water  did  not  flow  into 
it  as  fast  as  it  could  be  pumped  out  by  an  en 
gine.  Therefore,  for  the  purposes  of  supply 
ing  the  circulation  of  my  domestic  water  sys 
tem,  the  well  was  declared  a  failure. 

My  non-success  was  much  talked  about  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  we  received  a  great 
deal  of  sympathy  and  condolence.  Phineas 
Colwell  was  not  surprised  at  the  outcome  of 
the  affair.  He  had  said  that  the  well  had 
been  put  in  the  wrong  place.  Mrs.  Betty  was 
not  only  surprised,  but  disgusted. 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  289 

"It  is  all  very  well  for  you,"  she  said, 
"  who  could  afford  to  buy  water  if  it  was  nec 
essary,  but  it  is  very  different  with  the  widow 
and  the  orphan.  If  I  had  not  supposed  you 
were  going  to  have  a  real  well,  I  would  have 
had  my  spring  cleaned  out  and  deepened.  I 
could  have  had  it  done  in  the  early  summer, 
but  it  is  of  no  use  now ;  the  spring  has  dried 
up." 

She  told  a  neighbor  that  she  believed  the 
digging  of  my  well  had  dried  up  her  spring, 
and  that  that  was  the  way  of  this  world,  where 
the  widow  and  the  orphan  were  sure  to  come 
out  at  the  little  end. 

Of  course  I  did  not  submit  to  defeat — at 
least,  without  a  struggle.  I  had  a  well,  and 
if  anything  could  be  done  to  make  that  well 
supply  me  with  water  I  was  going  to  do  it.  I 
consulted  specialists,  and,  after  careful  con 
sideration  of  the  matter,  they  agreed  that  it 
would  be  unadvisable  for  me  to  attempt  to 
deepen  my  present  well,  as  there  was  reason 
to  suppose  there  was  very  little  water  in  the 
place  where  I  had  dug  it,  and  that  the  very 
best  thing  I  could  do  would  be  to  try  a 
driven  well.  As  I  had  already  excavated 
about  thirty  feet,  thr.t  was  so  much  gain  to 


290  MY  WELL  AND  WHAT 

me,  and  if  I  should  have  a  six-inch  pipe  put 
into  my  present  well  and  then  driven  down 
and  down  until  it  came  to  a  place  where 
there  was  plenty  of  water,  I  would  have  all  I 
wanted.  How  far  down  the  pipe  would  have 
to  be  driven,  of  course  they  did  not  know, 
but  they  all  agreed  that  if  I  drove  deep 
enough  I  would  get  all  the  water  I  wanted. 
This  was  the  only  kind  of  a  well,  they  said, 
which  one  could  sink  as  deep  as  he  pleased 
without  being  interfered  with  by  the  water 
at  the  bottom.  My  wife  and  I  then  consid 
ered  the  matter,  and  ultimately  decided  that 
it  would  be  a  waste  of  the  money  which  we 
had  already  spent  upon  the  engine,  the  pipes, 
and  the  little  house,  and,  as  there  was  noth 
ing  else  to  be  done  but  to  drive  a  well,  we 
would  have  a  well  driven. 

Of  course  we  were  both  very  sorry  that 
the  work  must  be  begun  again,  but  1  was  es 
pecially  dissatisfied,  for  the  weather  was  get 
ting  cold,  there  was  already  snow  upon  the 
ground,  and  I  was  told  that  work  could  not 
be  carried  on  in  winter  weather.  I  lost  no 
time,  however,  in  making  a  contract  with  a 
well-driver,  who  assured  me  that  as  soon  as 
the  working  season  should  open,  which  prob- 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  291 

ably  would  be  very  early  in  the  spring,  he 
would  come  to  my  place  and  begin  to  drive 
my  well. 

The  season  did  open,  and  so  did  the  pea 
blossoms,  and  the  pods  actually  began  to 
fill  before  I  saw  that  well-driver  again.  I 
had  had  a  good  deal  of  correspondence 
with  him  in  the  meantime,  urging  him  to 
prompt  action,  but  he  always  had  some 
good  reason  for  delay.  (I  found  out  after 
ward  that  he  was  busy  fulfilling  a  contract 
made  before  mine  in  which  he  promised 
to  drive  a  well  as  soon  as  the  season  should 
open.) 

At  last — it  was  early  in  the  summer — he 
came  with  his  derricks,  a  steam-engine,  a 
trip-hammer,  and  a  lot  of  men.  They  took  oft' 
the  roof  of  my  house,  removed  the  engine,  and 
set  to  work. 

For  many  a  long  day,  and  I  am  sorry  to 
say  for  many  a  longer  night,  that  trip-ham 
mer  hammered  and  banged.  On  the  next 
day,  after  the  night-work  began,  one  of  my 
neighbors  came  to  me  to  know  what  they 
did  that  for.  I  told  him  they  were  anxious 
to  get  through. 

"  Get  through  what,"  said  he,  "  the  earth  ? 


292  MY  WELL  AND  WHAT 

If  they  do  that  and  your  six-inch  pipe  conies 
out  in  a  Chinaman's  back  yard  he  will  sue 
you  for  damages." 

When  the  pipe  had  been  driven  through 
the  soft  stratum  under  the  old  well,  and  be 
gan  to  reach  firmer  ground,  the  pounding  and 
shaking  of  the  earth  became  worse  and  worse. 
My  wife  was  obliged  to  leave  home  with  our 
child. 

"If  he  is  to  do  without  both  water  and 
sleep,"  said  she,  "  he  cannot  long  survive." 
And  I  agreed  with  her. 

She  departed  for  a  pleasant  summer  resort 
where  her  married  sister  with  her  child  was 
staying,  and  from  week  to  week  I  received 
very  pleasant  letters  from  her,  telling  me  of 
the  charms  of  the  place,  and  dwelling  particu 
larly  upon  the  abundance  of  cool  spring 
water  with  which  the  house  was  supplied. 

While  this  terrible  pounding  was  going  on 
I  heard  various  reports  of  its  effect  upon  my 
neighbors.  One  of  them,  an  agriculturist, 
with  whom  I  had  always  been  on  the  best  of 
terms,  came  with  a  clouded  brow. 

"  When  I  first  felt  those  shakes,"  he  said, 
"  I  thought  they  were  the  effects  of  seismic 
disturbances  and  I  did  not  mind,  but  when  I 


CA MB  OUT  OF  IT  293 

found  it  was  your  well  I  thought  I  ought  to 
come  over  to  speak  about  it.  I  do  not  object 
to  the  shaking  of  my  barn,  because  my  man 
tells  me  the  continual  jolting  is  thrashing  out 
the  oats  and  wheat,  but  I  do  not  like  to  have 
all  my  apples  and  pears  shaken  off  my  trees. 
And  then,"  said  he,  "  I  have  a  late  brood  of 
chickens,  and  they  cannot  walk,  because 
every  time  they  go  to  make  a  step  they  are 
jolted  into  the  air  about  a  foot.  And  again, 
we  have  had  to  give  up  having  soup.  We 
like  soup,  but  we  do  not  care  to  have  it  spout 
up  like  a  fountain  whenever  that  hammer 
comes  down." 

I  was  grieved  to  trouble  this  friend,  and  I 
asked  him  what  I  should  do.  "Do  you  want 
me  to  stop  the  work  on  the  well  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he,  heartily ;  "  go  on  with 
the  work.  You  must  have  water  and  we  will 
try  to  stand  the  bumping.  I  dare  say  it  is 
good  for  dyspepsia,  and  the  cows  are  getting 
used  to  having  the  grass  jammed  up  against 
their  noses.  Go  ahead,  we  can  stand  it  in 
the  daytime,  but  if  you  could  stop  the  night- 
work  we  would  be  very  glad.  Some  people 
may  think  it  a  well-spring  of  pleasure  to  be 
bounced  out  of  bed,  but  I  don't." 


294  MY  WELL  AND  WHAT 

Mrs.  Perch  came  to  me  with  a  face  like  a 
squeezed  lemon,  and  asked  me  if  I  could 
lend  her  five  nails.  "  What  sort  ?  "  said  I. 

"  The  kind  you  nail  clapboards  on  with," 
said  she ;  "  there  is  one  of  them  been  shook 
entirely  off  my  house  by  your  well.  I  am  in 
hopes  that  before  the  rest  are  all  shook  off  I 
shall  get  in  some  money  that  is  owing  me  and 
can  afford  to  buy  nails  for  myself." 

I  stopped  the  night-work,  but  this  was  all 
I  could  do  for  these  neighbors. 

My  optimist  friend  was  delighted  when  he 
heard  of  my  driven  well;  he  lived  so  far 
away  that  he  and  his  mother  were  not  dis 
turbed  by  the  jarring  of  the  ground.  Now 
he  was  sure  that  some  of  the  internal  secrets 
of  the  earth  would  be  laid  bare,  and  he  rode 
or  drove  over  every  day  to  see  what  we  were 
getting  out  of  the  well.  I  know  that  he  was 
afraid  we  would  soon  get  water,  but  was  too 
kind-hearted  to  say  so. 

One  day  the  pipe  refused  to  go  deeper.  No 
matter  how  hard  it  was  struck,  it  bounced  up 
again.  When  some  of  the  substance  it  had 
struck  was  brought  up  it  looked  like  French 
chalk,  and  my  optimist  eagerly  examined  it. 

"  A  French-chalk  mine,"  said  he,  "  would 


GAME  OUT  OF  IT  2D5 

not  be  a  bad  thing,  but  I  hoped  that  you  had 
struck  a  bed  of  mineral  gutta-percha.  That 
would  be  a  grand  find." 

But  the  chalk  bed  was  at  last  passed  and 
we  began  again  to  bring  up  nothing  but 
common  earth. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  my  optimist  to  me  one 
morning,  "that  you  must  soon  come  to 
water,  and  if  you  do  I  hope  it  will  be  hot 
water." 

"  Hot  water ! "  I  exclaimed,  "  I  do  not  want 
that." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  would  if  you  had  thought 
about  it  as  much  as  I  have,"  he  replied.  "  I 
lay  awake  for  hours  last  night,  thinking  what 
would  happen  if  you  struck  hot  water.  In  the 
first  place,  it  would  be  absolutely  pure,  be 
cause,  even  if  it  were  possible  for  germs  and 
bacilli  to  get  down  so  deep  they  would  be 
boiled  before  you  got  them,  and  then  you 
could  cool  that  water  for  drinking.  When 
fresh  it  would  be  already  heated  for  cooking 
and  hot  baths.  And  then — just  think  of  it ! — 
you  could  introduce  the  hot-water  system  of 
heating  into  your  house,  and  there  would  be 
the  hot  water  always  ready.  But  the  great 
thing  would  be  your  garden.  Think  of  the 


296  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

refuse  liot  water  circulating  in  pipes  up  and 
down  and  under  all  your  beds !  That  garden 
would  bloom  in  the  winter  as  others  do  in 
the  summer.  At  least,  you  could  begin  to 
have  lima  beans  and  tomatoes  as  soon  as  the 
frost  was  out  of  the  air." 

I  laughed.  "  It  would  take  a  lot  of  pump 
ing,"  I  said,  "to  do  all  that  with  the  hot 
water." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  say,"  he  cried,  with  spark 
ling  eyes,  "  that  I  do  not  believe  you  would 
ever  have  any  more  pumping  to  do.  You 
have  now  gone  down  so  far  that  I  am  sure 
whatever  you  find  will  force  itself  up.  It  will 
spout  high  into  the  air  or  through  all  your 
pipes  and  run  always." 

Phineas  Colwell  was  by  when  this  was 
said,  and  he  must  have  gone  down  to  Mrs. 
Betty  Perch's  house  to  talk  it  over  with  her, 
for  in  the  afternoon  she  came  to  see  me. 

"  I  understand,"  said  she,  "  that  you  are 
trying  to  get  hot  water  out  of  your  well,  and 
that  there  is  likely  to  be  a  lot  more  than  you 
need,  so  that  it  will  run  down  by  the  side  of 
the  road.  I  just  want  to  say  that  if  a  stream 
of  hot  water  comes  down  past  my  house  some 
of  the  children  will  be  bound  to  get  into  it 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  297 

and  be  scalded  to  death,  and  I  came  to  say 
that  if  that  well  is  going  to  squirt  biling 
water  I'd  like  to  have  notice  so  that  I  can 
move,  though  where  a  widow  with  so  many 
orphans  is  going  to  move  to  nobody  knows. 
Mr.  Colwell  says  that  if  you  had  got  him  to 
tell  you  where  to  put  that  well  there  would 
have  been  no  danger  of  this  sort  of  thing." 

The  next  day  the  optimist  came  to  me,  his 
face  fairly  blazing  with  a  new  idea.  "  I  rode 
over  on  purpose  to  urge  you,"  he  cried,  "  if 
you  should  strike  hot  water,  not  to  stop  there. 
Go  on,  and,  by  George  !  you  may  strike  fire." 

"  Heavens  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Oh,  quite  the  opposite,"  said  he,  "  but  do 
not  let  us  joke.  I  think  that  would  be  the 
grandest  thing  of  this  age.  Think  of  a  fire 
well,  with  the  flames  shooting  up  perhaps  a 
hundred  feet  into  the  air  ! " 

I  wish  Phineas  Colwell  had  not  been  there. 
As  it  was  he  turned  pale  and  sat  down  on  the 
wall. 

"  You  look  astonished !  "  exclaimed  the  op 
timist,  "but  listen  to  me.  You  have  not 
thought  of  this  thing  as  I  have.  If  you 
should  strike  fire  your  fortune  would  be  made. 
By  a  system  of  reflectors  you  could  light  up 


298  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

the  whole  country.  By  means  of  tiles  and 
pipes  this  region  could  be  made  tropical. 
You  could  warm  all  the  houses  in  the  neigh 
borhood  with  hot  air.  And  then  the  power 
you  could  generate — just  think  of  it !  Heat 
is  power,  the  cost  of  power  is  the  fuel.  You 
could  furnish  power  to  all  who  wanted  it ; 
you  could  fill  this  region  with  industries. 
My  dear  sir,  you  must  excuse  my  agitation, 
but  if  you  should  strike  fire  there  is  no  limit 
to  the  possibilities  of  achievement." 

"  But  I  want  water,"  said  I ;  "  fire  would 
not  take  the  place  of  that." 

"  Oh,  water  is  a  trifle,"  said  he ;  "  you  could 
have  pipes  laid  from  town.  It  is  only  about 
two  miles.  But  fire  !  Nobody  has  yet  gone 
down  deep  enough  for  that.  You  have  your 
future  in  your  hands." 

As  I  did  not  care  to  connect  my  future  with 
fire,  this  idea  did  not  strike  me  very  forcibly, 
but  it  struck  Phineas  Colwell.  He  did  not 
say  anything  to  me,  but  after  I  had  gone  he 
went  to  the  well-drivers. 

"  If  you  feel  them  pipes  getting  hot,"  he 
said  to  them,  "I  warn  you  to  stop.  I  have 
been  in  countries  where  there  are  volcanoes 
and  I  know  what  they  are.  There's  enough 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  299 

of  them  in  this  world  and  there's  no  need  of 
milking  new  ones." 

In  the  afternoon  a  wagoner,  who  happened 
to  be  passing,  brought  me  a  note  from  Mrs. 
Perch,  very  badly  spelled,  asking  if  I  would 
let  one  of  my  men  bring  her  a  pail  of  water, 
for  she  could  not  think  of  coming  herself  or 
letting  any  of  the  children  come  near  my 
place  if  spouting  fires  were  expected. 

The  well-driving  had  gone  on  and  on  with 
intermissions  on  account  of  sickness  in  the 
families  of  the  various  workmen,  until  it  had 
reached  the  limit  which  I  had  fixed,  and  we 
had  not  found  water  in  sufficient  quantity, 
hot  or  cold,  nor  had  we  struck  fire,  or  any 
thing  else  worth  having. 

The  well-drivers  and  some  specialists  were 
of  the  opinion  that  if  I  were  to  go  ten,  twenty, 
or  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  deeper,  I  would  be 
very  likely  to  get  all  the  water  I  wanted. 
But  of  course  they  could  not  tell  how  deep 
they  must  go,  for  some  wells  were  over  a 
thousand  feet  deep.  I  shook  my  head  at 
this.  There  seemed  to  be  only  one  thing 
certain  about  this  drilling  business,  and 
that  was  the  expense.  I  declined  to  go  any 
deeper. 


300  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

"  I  think,"  a  facetious  neighbor  said  to  me, 
"  it  would  be  cheaper  for  you  to  buy  a  lot  of 
Apollinaris  water,  at  wholesale  rates,  of 
course,  and  let  your  men  open  so  many 
bottles  a  day  and  empty  them  into  your  tank. 
You  would  find  that  would  pay  better  in  the 
long  run." 

Phineas  Colwell  told  me  that  when  he  had 
informed  Mrs.  Perch  that  I  was  going  to  stop 
operations,  she  was  in  a  dreadful  state  of 
mind.  "After  all  she  had  undergone,"  she 
said,  "  it  was  simply  cruel  to  think  of  my 
stopping  before  I  got  water,  and  that  after 
having  dried  up  her  spring." 

This  is  what  Phineas  said  she  said,  but 
when  next  I  met  her  she  told  me  that  he  had 
declared  that  if  I  had  put  the  well  where  he 
thought  it  ought  to  be,  I  should  have  been 
having  all  the  water  I  wanted  before  now. 

My  optimist  was  dreadfully  cast  down  when 
he  heard  that  I  would  drive  no  deeper. 

"  I  have  been  afraid  of  this,"  he  said.  "  1 
have  been  afraid  of  it,  and  if  circumstances 
had  so  arranged  themselves  that  I  should 
have  command  of  money,  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  assume  the  expense  of  deeper  explora 
tions.  I  have  been  thinking  a  great  deal 


GA ME  OUT  OF  IT  301 

about  the  matter,  and  I  feel  quite  sure  that 
even  if  you  did  not  get  water  or  anything  else 
that  might  prove  of  value  to  you,  it  would  be 
a  great  advantage  to  have  a  pipe  sunk  into 
the  earth  to  the  depth  of,  say,  one  thousand 
feet." 

"  What  possible  advantage  could  that  be  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"I  will  tell  you,"  he  said.  "You  would 
then  have  one  of  the  grandest  opportunities 
ever  offered  to  man  of  constructing  a  gravity 
engine.  This  would  be  an  engine  which 
would  be  of  no  expense  at  all  to  run.  It 
would  need  no  fuel.  Gravity  would  be  the 
power.  It  would  work  a  pump  splendidly. 
You  could  start  it  when  you  liked  and  stop 
it  when  you  liked." 

"  Pump  !  "  said  I,  "  what  is  the  good  of  a 
pump  without  water  ?  " 

"  Oh !  of  course  you  would  have  to  have 
water,"  he  answered;  "but,  no  matter  how 
you  get  it,  you  will  have  to  pump  it  up  to 
your  tank  so  as  to  make  it  circulate  over  your 
house.  Now,  my  gravity  pump  would  do 
this  beautifully.  You  see,  the  pump  would 
be  arranged  with  cog  wheels  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing,  and  the  power  would  be  supplied 


302  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

by  a  weight,  which  would  be  a  cylinder  of 
lead  or  iron,  fastened  to  a  rope  and  run 
down  inside  your  pipe.  Just  think  of  it! 
It  would  run  down  a  thousand  feet,  and 
where  is  there  anything  worked  by  weight 
that  has  such  a  fall  as  that  ?  " 

I  laughed.  "That  is  all  very  well,"  said 
I;  "but  how  about  the  power  required  to 
wind  that  weight  up  again  when  it  got  to  the 
bottom?  I  should  have  to  have  an  engine 
to  do  that." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he.  "  I  have  planned  the 
thing  better  than  that.  You  see,  the  greater 
the  weight  the  greater  the  power  and  the  ve 
locity.  Now,  if  you  take  a  solid  cylinder  of 
lead  about  four  inches  in  diameter,  so  that  it 
would  slip  easily  down  your  pipe — you  might 
grease  it  for  that  matter — and  twenty  feet  in 
length,  it  would  be  an  enormous  weight,  and 
in  slowly  descending  for  about  an  hour  a  day 
— for  that  would  be  long  enough  for  your 
pumping — and  going  down  a  thousand  feet, 
it  would  run  your  engine  for  a  year.  Now 
then,  at  the  end  of  the  year  you  could  not 
expect  to  haul  that  weight  up  again.  You 
would  have  a  trigger  arrangement  which 
would  detach  it  from  the  rope  when  it  got  to 


GAME  OUT  OF  IT  303 

the  bottom.  Then  you  would  wind  up  your 
rope — a  man  could  do  that  in  a  short  time — 
and  you  would  attach  another  cylinder  of 
lead  and  that  would  run  your  engine  for  an 
other  year,  minus  a  few  days,  because  it  would 
only  go  down  980  feet.  The  next  year  you 
would  put  on  another  cylinder  and  so  on. 
I  have  not  worked  out  the  figures  exactly,  but 
I  thiak  that  in  this  way  your  engine  would 
run  for  thirty  years  before  the  pipe  became 
entirely  filled  with  cylinders.  That  would 
be  probably  as  long  as  you  would  care  to 
have  water  forced  into  the  house." 

"Yes,"  said  I.  "I  think  that  is  likely." 
He  saw  that  his  scheme  did  not  strike  me 
favorably.  Suddenly  a  light  flashed  across 
his  face. 

"I  tell  you  what  you  can  do  with  your 
pipe,"  he  said,  "just  as  it  is.  You  can  set 
up  a  clock  over  it  which  would  run  for  forty 
years  without  winding." 

I  smiled,  and  he  turned  sadly  away  to  his 
horse,  but  he  had  not  ridden  ten  yards  before 
he  came  back  and  called  to  me  over  the  wall. 

"  If  the  earth  at  the  bottom  of  your  pipe 
should  ever  yield  to  pressure  and  give  way, 
and  if  water  or  gas,  or — anything,  should  be 


304  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

squirted  out  of  it,  I  beg  you  will  let  me  know 
as  soon  as  possible." 

I  promised  to  do  so. 

When  the  pounding  was  at  an  end  my  wife 
and  child  came  home.  But  the  season  con 
tinued  dry,  and  even  their  presence  could  not 
counteract  the  feeling  of  aridity  which  seemed 
to  permeate  everything  which  belonged  to 
us,  material  or  immaterial.  We  had  a  great 
deal  of  commiseration  from  our  neighbors.  I 
think  even  Mrs.  Betty  Perch  began  to  pity  us 
a  little,  for  her  spring  had  begun  to  trickle 
again  in  a  small  way,  and  she  sent  word  to 
me  that  if  we  were  really  in  need  of  water  she 
would  be  willing  to  divide  with  us.  Phineas 
Colwell  was  sorry  for  us,  of  course,  but  he 
could  not  help  feeling  and  saying  that  if  I 
had  consulted  him  the  misfortune  would  have 
been  prevented. 

It  was  late  in  the  summer  when  my  wife 
returned,  and  when  she  made  her  first  visit  of 
inspection  to  the  grounds  and  gardens  her 
eyes,  of  course,  fell  upon  the  unfinished  well. 
She  was  shocked. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  scene  of  wreckage," 
she  said.  "  It  looks  like  a  Western  town  after 
a  cyclone.  I  think  the  best  thing  you  can  do 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  305 

is  to  have  this  dreadful  litter  cleared  up, 
the  ground  smoothed  and  raked,  the  wall 
mended,  and  the  roof  put  back  on  that  little 
house,  and  then  if  we  can  make  anybody  be 
lieve  it  is  an  ice-house  so  much  the  better." 

This  was  good  advice,  and  I  sent  for  a  man 
to  put  the  vicinity  of  the  well  in  order  and 
give  it  the  air  of  neatness  which  characterizes 
the  rest  of  our  home. 

The  man  who  came  was  named  Mr.  Barnet. 
He  was  a  contemplative  fellow,  with  a  pipe 
in  his  mouth.  After  having  worked  at  the 
place  for  half  a  day  he  sent  for  me  and  said  : 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  would  do  if  I  was 
in  your  place.  I'd  put  that  pump-house  in 
order,  and  I'd  set  up  the  engine,  and  put  the 
pump  down  into  that  thirty-foot  well  you  first 
dug,  and  I'd  pump  water  into  my  house." 

I  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"  There's  lots  of  water  in  that  well,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  and  if  there's  that  much  now  in  this 
drought,  you  will  surely  have  ever  so  much 
more  when  the  weather  isn't  so  dry.  I  have 
measured  the  water  and  I  know." 

I  could  not  understand  him.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  he  was  talking  wildly.  He  filled  his 
pipe  and  lighted  it  and  sat  upon  the  wall. 


306  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

"Now,"  said  he,  after  he  had  taken  a  few 
puffs,  "  I'll  tell  you  where  the  trouble's  been 
with  your  well.  People  are  always  in  too  big 
a  hurry  in  this  world  about  all  sorts  of  things 
as  well  as  wells.  I  am  a  well-digger  and  I 
know  all  about  them.  We  know  if  there  is 
any  water  in  the  ground  it  will  always  find  its 
way  to  the  deepest  hole  there  is,  and  we  dig  a 
well  so  as  to  give  it  a  deep  hole  to  go  to  in  the 
place  where  we  want  it.  But  you  can't  expect 
the  water  to  come  to  that  hole  just  the  very 
day  it's  finished.  Of  course  you  will  get  some, 
because  it's  right  there  in  the  neighborhood, 
but  there  is  always  a  lot  more  that  will  come  if 
you  give  it  time.  It's  got  to  make  little  chan 
nels  and  passages  for  itself,  and  of  course  it 
takes  time  to  do  that.  It's  like  settling  up  a 
new  country.  Only  a  few  pioneers  come  at 
first,  and  you  have  to  wait  for  the  population 
to  flow  in.  This  being  a  dry  season,  and  the 
water  in  the  ground  a  little  sluggish  on  that 
account,  it  was  a  good  while  finding  out  where 
your  well  was.  If  I  had  happened  along 
when  3rou  was  talking  about  a  well  I  think  I 
should  have  said  to  you  that  I  knew  a  proverb 
which  would  about  fit  your  case,  and  that  is : 
'  Let  well  enough,  alone.'  " 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  307 

I  felt  like  taking  this  good  man  by  tlio 
hand,  but  I  did  not.  I  only  told  him  to 
go  ahead  and  do  everything  that  was 
proper. 

The  next  morning  as  I  was  going  to  the 
well  I  saw  Phineas  Colwell  coming  down  the 
lane  and  Mrs.  Betty  Perch  coming  up  it.  I 
did  not  wish  them  to  question  me,  so  I 
stepped  behind  some  bushes.  When  they 
met  they  stopped. 

"  Upon  my  word !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Betty, 
"  if  he  isn't  going  to  work  again  on  that  ever 
lasting  well.  If  he's  got  so  much  money  he 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  it,  I  could  tell 
him  that  there's  people  in  this  world,  and  not 
far  away  either,  who  would  be  the  better  for 
some  of  it.  It's  a  sin  and  a  shame,  and  an 
abomination.  Do  you  believe,  Mr.  Colwell, 
that  there  is  the  least  chance  in  the  world  of 
his  ever  getting  water  enough  out  of  that 
well  to  shave  himself  with  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Perch,"  said  Phineas,  "it  ain't  no 
use  talking  about  that  well.  It  ain't  no  use 
and  it  never  can  be  no  use,  because  it's  in  the 
wrong  place.  If  he  ever  pumps  water  out  of 
that  well  into  his  house  I'll  do — 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Barnet, 


308  MY  WELL  AND   WHAT 

who  just  then  appeared  from  the  recesses  of 
the  engine-house. 

"  I'll  do  anything  on  this  earth  that  you 
choose  to  name,"  said  Phineas.  "  I  am  safe 
whatever  it  is." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Mr.  Barnet,  knocking 
the  ashes  from  his  pipe  preparatory  to  filling 
it  again,  "  will  you  marry  Mrs.  Perch  ?  " 

Phineas  laughed.  "Yes,"  he  said.  "I 
promised  I  would  do  anything,  and  I'll 
promise  that." 

"  A  slim  chance  for  me,"  said  Mrs.  Betty, 
"  even  if  I'd  have  you,"  and  she  marched  on 
with  her  nose  in  the  air. 

When  Mr.  Barnet  got  fairly  to  work  with 
his  derrick,  his  men,  and  his  buckets,  he 
found  that  there  was  a  good  deal  more  to  do 
than  he  had  expected.  The  well-drivers  had 
injured  the  original  well  by  breaking  some 
of  the  tiles  which  lined  it,  and  these  had  to 
be  taken  out  and  others  put  in,  and  in  the 
course  of  this  work  other  improvements  sug 
gested  themselves  and  were  made.  Several 
times  operations  were  delayed  by  sickness  in 
the  family  of  Mr.  Barnet,  and  also  in  the 
families  of  his  workmen,  but  still  the  work 
went  on  in  a  very  fair  manner,  although 


CAME  OUT  OF  IT  309 

much  more  slowly  than  had  been  supposed 
by  any  one.  But  in  the  course  of  time— I 
will  not  say  how  much  time — the  work  was 
finished,  the  engine  was  in  its  place  and  it 
pumped  water  into  my  house,  and  every  day 
since  then  it  has  pumped  all  the  water  we 
need,  pure,  cold,  and  delicious. 

Knowing  the  promise  Phineas  Colwell  had 
made,  and  feeling  desirous  of  having  every 
thing  which  concerned  my  well  settled  and 
finished,  I  went  to  look  for  him  to  remind 
him  of  his  duty  toward  Mrs.  Perch,  but  I 
could  not  find  that  naval  and  military  me 
chanical  agriculturist.  He  had  gone  away  to 
take  a  job  or  a  contract— I  could  not  discover 
which — and  he  has  not  since  appeared  in  our 
neighborhood.  Mrs.  Perch  is  very  severe  on 
me  about  this. 

"  There's  plenty  of  bad  things  come  out  of 
that  well,"  she  said,  "  but  I  never  thought 
anything  bad  enough  would  come  out  of  it 
to  make  Mr.  Colwell  go  away  and  leave  me 
to  keep  on  being  a  widow  with  all  them 
orphans." 


STEPHEN    SKARRIDGE'S 
CHRISTMAS 

An  Archaism 


STEPHEN    SKARRIDGE'S 
CHRISTMAS 

An  Archaism 

WAS  Christmas  eve.  An  adamantine 
sky  hung  dark  and  heavy  over  the 
white  earth.  The  forests  were  canescent  with 
frost,  and  the  great  trees  bent  as  if  they  were 
not  able  to  sustain  the  weight  of  snow  and  ice 
with  which  the  young  winter  had  loaded  them. 

In  a  by-path  of  the  solemn  woods  there 
stood  a  cottage  that  would  not,  perhaps,  have 
been  noticed  in  the  decreasing  twilight,  had  it 
not  been  for  a  little  wisp  of  smoke  that  feebly 
curled  from  the  chimney,  apparently  intend 
ing,  every  minute,  to  draw  up  its  attenuat 
ed  tail,  and  disappear.  Within,  around  the 
hearth  whereon  the  dying  embers  sent  up 
that  feeble  smoke,  there  gathered  the  family 
of  Arthur  Tyrrell — himself,  his  wife,  a  boy, 
and  a  girl. 

'Twas  Christmas  eve.     A  damp  air  rushed 


314     STEPHEN  8K ABRIDGE* 8  CHRISTMAS 

from  the  recesses  of  the  forest  and  came,  an 
unbidden  guest,  into  the  cottage  of  the  Tyr- 
rells,  and  it  sat  on  every  chair,  and  lay 
upon  every  bed,  and  held  in  its  chilly  em 
brace  every  member  of  the  family.  All 
sighed. 

"Father,"  said  the  boy,  "is  there  no  more 
wood,  that  I  may  replenish  the  fire  ?  " 

"No,  my  son,"  bitterly  replied  the  father, 
his  face  hidden  in  his  hands ;  "  I  brought,  at 
noon,  the  last  stick  from  the  wood-pile." 

The  mother,  at  these  words,  wiped  a  silent 
tear  from  her  eyes,  and  drew  her  children  yet 
nearer  the  smouldering  coals.  The  father 
rose  and  moodily  stood  by  the  window,  gaz 
ing  out  upon  the  night.  A  wind  had  now 
arisen,  and  the  dead  branches  strewed  the 
path  that  he  soon  must  take  to  the  neighbor 
ing  town.  But  he  cared  not  for  the  danger ; 
his  fate  and  heart  were  alike  hard. 

"Mother!"  said  the  little  girl,  "shall  I 
hang  up  my  stocking  to-night  ?  'Tis  Christ 
mas  eve." 

A  Damascus  blade  could  not  have  cut  the 
mother's  heart  more  keenly  than  this  ques 
tion. 

"  No,  dear,"  she  faltered.     "  You  must  wear 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     315 

your  stockings — there  is  no  fire — and  your 
feet,  uncovered,  will  freeze." 

The  little  girl  sighed,  and  gazed  sadly 
upon  the  blackening  coals.  But  she  raised 
her  head  again  and  said, 

"  But,  mother  dear,  if  I  should  sleep  with 
my  legs  outside  the  clothes,  old  Santa  Glaus 
might  slip  in  some  little  things  between  the 
stocking  and  my  skin;  could  he  not,  dear 
mother?" 

"  Mother  is  weeping,  sister,"  said  the  boy, 
"  press  her  no  further." 

The  father  now  drew  around  him  his  thread 
bare  coat,  put  upon  his  head  his  well-brushed 
straw  hat,  and  approached  the  door. 

"Where  are  you  going,  this  bitter  night, 
dear  father  ?  "  cried  his  little  son. 

"  He  goes,"  then  said  the  weeping  mother, 
"  to  the  town.  Disturb  him  not,  my  son,  for 
he  will  buy  a  mackerel  for  our  Christmas  din 
ner." 

"  A  mackerel ! "  cried  both  the  children, 
and  their  eyes  sparkled  with  joy.  The  boy 
sprang  to  his  feet. 

"You  must  not  go  alone,  dear  father,"  he 
cried.  "  I  will  accompany  you." 

And  together  they  left  the  cottage. 


316     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGtfS  CHRISTMAS 

The  streets  were  crowded  with  merry  faces 
and  well  wrapped-up  forms.  Snow  and  ice,  it 
is  true,  lay  thick  upon  the  pavements  and 
roofs,  but  what  of  that  ?  Bright  lights  glis 
tened  from  every  window,  bright  fires  warmed 
and  softened  the  air  within  the  houses,  while 
bright  hearts  made  rosy  and  happy  the  coun 
tenances  of  the  merry  crowd  without.  In 
some  of  the  shops  great  turkeys  hung  in 
placid  obesity  from  the  bending  beams,  and 
enormous  bowls  of  mince-meat  sent  up  de 
lightful  fumes,  which  mingled  harmoniously 
with  the  scents  of  the  oranges,  the  apples, 
and  the  barrels  of  sugar  and  bags  of  spices. 
In  others,  the  light  from  the  chandeliers 
struck  upon  the  polished  surface  of  many  a 
new  wheelbarrow,  sled,  or  hobby-horse,  or 
lighted  up  the  placid  features  of  recumbent 
dolls  and  the  demoniacal  countenances  of 
wildly  jumping  jacks.  The  crop  of  marbles 
and  tops  was  almost  more  than  could  be  gar 
nered  ;  boxes  and  barrels  of  soldiers  stood  on 
every  side  ;  tin  horns  hung  from  every  promi 
nence,  and  boxes  of  wonders  filled  the  coun 
ters;  while  all  the  floor  was  packed  with 
joyous  children  carrying  their  little  purses. 
Beyond,  there  stood  the  candy-stores — those 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     317 

earthly  paradises  of  the  young,  where  golden 
gumdrops,  rare  cream  chocolate,  variegated 
mint-stick,  and  enrapturing  mixtures  spread 
their  sweetened  wealth  over  all  available 
space. 

To  these  and  many  other  shops  and  stores 
and  stalls  and  stands  thronged  the  towns 
people,  rich  and  poor.  Even  the  humblest 
had  some  money  to  spend  upon  this  merry 
Christmas  eve.  A  damsel  of  the  lower  or 
ders  might  here  be  seen  hurrying  home  with 
a  cheap  chicken ;  here  another  with  a  duck ; 
and  here  the  saving  father  of  a  family  bending 
under  the  load  of  a  turkey  and  a  huge  basket 
of  good  things.  Everywhere  were  cheerful 
lights  and  warm  hearthstones,  bright  and 
gay  mansions,  cosey  and  comfortable  little 
tenements,  happy  hearts,  rosy  cheeks,  and 
bright  eyes.  Nobody  cared  for  the  snow  and 
ice,  while  they  had  so  much  that  was  warm 
and  cheering.  It  was  all  the  better  for  the 
holiday — what  would  Christmas  be  without 
snow  ? 

Through  these  jo}rous  crowds — down  the 
hilarious  streets,  where  the  happy  boys  were 
shouting,  and  the  merry  girls  were  hurrying 
in  and  out  of  the  shops — came  a  man  who  was 


318     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

neither  joyous,  hilarious,  merry,  nor  happy. 
It  was  Stephen  Skarridge,  the  landlord  of 
many  houses  in  that  town.  He  wore  an  over 
coat,  which,  though  old,  was  warm  and  com 
fortable,  and  he  had  fur  around  his  wrists  and 
his  neck.  His  hat  was  pushed  down  tight 
upon  his  little  head,  as  though  he  would  shut 
out  all  the  sounds  of  merriment  which  filled 
the  town.  Wife  and  child  he  had  none,  and 
this  season  of  joy  to  all  the  Christian  world 
was  an  annoying  and  irritating  season  to  his 
unsympathetic,  selfish  heart. 

"  Oh,  ho !  "  he  said  to  himself,  as  one  after 
another  of  his  tenants,  loaded  down  with 
baskets  and  bundles,  hurried  by,  each  wish 
ing  him  a  merry  Christmas;  "oh,  ho!  there 
seems  to  be  a  great  ease  in  the  money  market 
just  now.  Oh,  ho,  ho!  They  all  seem  as 
flush  as  millionnaires.  There's  nothing  like 
the  influence  of  holiday  times  to  make  one 
open  his  pockets — ha,  ha !  It's  not  yet  the 
first  of  the  month,  'tis  true ;  but  it  matters 
not — I'll  go  and  collect  my  rents  to-night, 
while  all  this  money  is  afloat — oh,  ho !  ha, 
ha!" 

Now  old  Skarridge  went  from  house  to 
house,  and  threatened  with  expulsion  all  who 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     319 

did  not  pay  their  rents  that  night.  Some  re 
sisted  bravely,  for  the  settlement  day  had  not 
yet  arrived,  and  these  were  served  with  no 
tices  to  leave  at  the  earliest  legal  moment ; 
others  paid  up  to  their  dues  with  many  an 
angry  protest ;  while  some,  poor  souls,  had 
no  money  ready  for  this  unforeseen  demand, 
and  Stephen  Skarridge  seized  whatever  he 
could  find  that  would  satisfy  his  claim. 
Thus  many  a  poor,  weeping  family  saw  the 
turkey  or  the  fat  goose  which  was  to  have 
graced  the  Christmas  table  carried  away  by 
the  relentless  landlord.  The  children  shed 
tears  to  see  their  drums  and  toys  depart,  and 
many  a  little  memento  of  affection,  intended 
for  a  gift  upon  the  morrow,  became  the  prop 
erty  of  the  hard-hearted  Stephen.  'Twas 
nearly  nine  o'  clock  when  Skarridge  finished 
his  nefarious  labor.  He  had  converted  his 
seizures  into  money,  and  was  returning  to 
his  inhospitable  home  with  more  joyous 
light  in  his  eyes  than  had  shone  there  for 
many  a  day,  when  he  saw  Arthur  Tyrrell 
and  his  son  enter  the  bright  main  street  of 
the  town. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  "  said  Stephen  ;  "  has  he,  too, 
come  to  spend  his  Christmas  money  ?     He, 


320     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

the  poor,  miserable,  penniless  one  !     I'll  fol 
low  him." 

So  behind  the  unhappy  father  and  his  son 
went  the  skulking  Skarridge.  Past  the  gro 
cery  store  and  the  markets,  with  their  rich 
treasures  of  eatables;  past  the  toy-shops, 
where  the  boy's  eyes  sparkled  with  the  delight 
which  disappointment  soon  washed  out  with 
a  tear ;  past  the  candy-shops,  where  the  win 
dows  were  so  entrancing  that  the  little  fellow 
could  scarcely  look  upon  them — on,  past  all 
these,  to  a  small  shop  at  the  bottom  of  the 
street,  where  a  crowd  of  the  very  poorest 
people  were  making  their  little  purchases, 
went  the  father  and  his  son,  followed  by  the 
evil-minded  Skarridge.  When  the  Tyrrells 
went  into  the  shop,  the  old  man  concealed 
himself  outside,  behind  a  friendly  pillar,  lest 
any  of  these  poor  people  should  happen  to 
be  his  tenants,  and  return  him  the  damage 
he  had  just  done  to  them.  But  he  very  plainly 
saw  Arthur  Tyrrell  go  up  to  the  counter  and 
ask  for  a  mackerel.  When  one  was  brought, 
costing  ten  cents,  he  declined  it,  but  event 
ually  purchased  a  smaller  one,  the  price  of 
which  was  eight  cents.  The  two  cents  which 
he  received  as  change  were  expended  for  a 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     321 

modicum  of  lard,  and  father  and  son  then 
left  the  store  and  wended  their  way  home 
ward.  The  way  was  long,  but  the  knowledge 
that  they  brought,  that  which  would  make 
the  next  day  something  more  like  Christmas 
than  an  ordinary  day,  made  their  steps  light 
er  and  the  path  less  wearisome. 

They  reached  the  cottage  and  opened  the 
door.  There,  by  a  rushlight  on  a  table,  sat 
the  mother  and  the  little  girl,  arranging  greens 
wherewith  to  decorate  their  humble  home. 
To  the  mute  interrogation  of  the  mother's 
eyes  the  father  said,  with  something  of  the 
old  fervor  in  his  voice  : 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  have  brought  it ; "  and  he 
laid  the  mackerel  on  the  table.  The  little  girl 
sprang  up  to  look  at  it,  and  the  boy  stepped 
back  to  shut  the  door;  but  before  he  could 
do  so,  it  was  pushed  wide  open,  and  Skar- 
ridge,  who  had  followed  them  all  the  way, 
entered  the  cottage.  The  inmates  gazed  at 
him  with  astonishment ;  but  they  did  not 
long  remain  in  ignorance  of  the  meaning  of 
this  untimely  visit. 

"  Mr.  Tyrrell,"  said  Skarridge,  taking  out 
of  his  pocket  a  huge  memorandum-book,  and 
turning  over  the  pages  with  a  swift  and  prac- 


322     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

tised  hand,  "  I  believe  you  owe  ine  two 
months'  rent.  Let  me  see — yes,  here  it  is — 
eighty-seven  and  a  half  cents — two  months 
at  forty-three  and  three-quarters  cents  per 
month.  I  should  like  to  have  it  now,  if  you 
please,"  and  he  stood  with  his  head  on  one 
side,  his  little  eyes  gleaming  with  a  yellow 
maliciousness. 

Arthur  Tyrrell  arose.  His  wife  crept  to 
his  side,  and  the  two  children  ran  behind 
their  parents. 

"  Sir,"  said  Tyrrell,  "  I  have  no  money — 
do  your  worst." 

"  No  money !  "  cried  the  hard-hearted  Ste 
phen.  "That  story  will  not  do  for  me. 
Everybody  seerns  to  have  money  to-night ; 
and  if  they  have  none,  it  is  because  they  have 
wilfully  spent  it.  But  if  you  really  have 
none  " — and  here  a  ray  of  hope  shot  through 
the  hearts  of  the  Tyrrell  family — "  you  must 
have  something  that  will  bring  money,  and 
that  I  shall  seize  upon.  Ah,  ha  !  I  will  take 
this!" 

And  he  picked  up  the  Christmas  mackerel 
from  the  table  where  Arthur  had  laid  it. 

"  'Tis  very  little,"  said  Skarridge,  "  but  it 
will  at  least  pay  me  my  interest."  Wrapping 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     323 

it  in  the  brown  paper  which  lay  under  it,  he 
thrust  it  into  his  capacious  pocket,  and  with 
out  another  word  went  out  into  the  night. 

Arthur  Tyrrell  sank  into  a  chair,  and  cov 
ered  his  face  with  his  hands.  His  children, 
dumb  with  horror  and  dismay,  clung  to  the 
rounds  of  his  chair,  while  his  wife,  ever  faith 
ful  in  the  day  of  sorrow  as  in  that  of  joy, 
put  her  arm  around  his  neck  and  whispered 
in  his  ear,  "  Cheer  up,  dear  Arthur,  all  may 
yet  be  well ;  have  courage !  He  did  not  take 
the  lard !  " 

Swiftly  homeward,  through  the  forest, 
walked  the  triumphant  Skarridge,  and  he 
reached  his  home  an  hour  before  midnight. 
He  lived  alone,  in  a  handsome  house  (which 
he  had  seized  for  a  debt),  an  old  woman  com 
ing  every  day  to  prepare  his  meals  and  do 
the  little  housework  that  he  required.  Open 
ing  his  door  with  his  latch-key,  he  hurried 
upstairs,  lighted  a  candle,  and  seating  him 
self  at  a  large  table  in  a  spacious  room  in  the 
front  of  the  house,  he  counted  over  the 
money  he  had  collected  that  evening,  entered 
the  amount  in  one  of  the  great  folios  which 
lay  upon  the  table,  and  locked  up  the  cash  in 
a  huge  safe.  Then  he  took  from  his  pocket 


324     STEPHEN  SKARRIDQE'S  CHRISTMAS 

the  mackerel  of  the  Tyrrell  family.  He 
opened  it,  laid  it  flat  upon  the  table  before 
him,  and  divided  it  by  imaginary  lines  into 
six  parts. 

"  Here,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  are  breakfasts 
for  six  days — I  would  it  were  a  week.  I  like 
to  have  things  square  and  even.  Had  that 
man  bought  the  ten-cent  fish  that  I  saw  of 
fered  him,  there  would  have  been  seven  por 
tions.  Well,  perhaps  I  can  make  it  do,  even 
now — let  me  see  !  A  little  off  here — and  the 
same  off  this — so " 

At  this  moment  something  very  strange  oc 
curred.  The  mackerel,  which  had  been  lying, 
split  open,  upon  its  back,  now  closed  itself, 
gave  two  or  three  long-drawn  gasps,  and  then 
heaving  a  sigh  of  relief,  it  flapped  its  tail, 
rolled  its  eyes  a  little,  and  deliberately  wrig 
gling  itself  over  to  a  pile  of  ledgers,  sat  up  on 
its  tail,  and  looked  at  Skarridge.  This  as 
tounded  individual  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
gazed  with  all  his  eyes  at  the  strange  fish. 
But  he  was  more  astounded  yet,  when  the 
fish  spoke  to  him.  "  "Would  you  mind,"  said 
the  mackerel,  making  a  very  wry  face,  "  get 
ting  me  a  glass  of  water?  I  feel  all  of  a 
parch  inside." 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE' S  CHRISTMAS     325 

Skarridge  mumbled  out  some  sort  of  an  as 
sent,  and  hurried  to  a  table  near  by,  where 
stood  a  pitcher  and  a  glass,  and  filling  the 
latter,  he  brought  it  to  the  mackerel.  "  Will 
you  hold  it  to  my  mouth  ?  "  said  the  fish. 
Stephen  complying,  the  mackerel  drank  a 
good  half  of  the  water. 

"  There,"  it  said,  "  that  makes  me  feel  bet 
ter.  I  don't  mind  brine  if  I  can  take  exer 
cise.  But  to  lie  perfectly  still  in  salt  water 
makes  one  feel  wretched.  You  don't  know 
how  hungry  I  am.  Have  you  any  worms 
convenient  ?  " 

"Worms!"  cried  Stephen,  "why,  what  a 
question  !  No,  I  have  no  worms." 

"  Well,"  said  the  fish,  somewhat  petulantly, 
"  you  must  have  some  sort  of  a  yard  or  gar 
den  ;  go  and  dig  me  some." 

"  Dig  them ! "  cried  Stephen.  "  Do  you 
know  it's  winter,  and  the  ground's  frozen — 
and  the  worms  too,  for  that  matter  ?  " 

"I  don't  care  anything  for  all  that,"  said 
the  mackerel.  "Go  you  and  dig  some  up. 
Frozen  or  thawed,  it  is  all  one  to  me  now ;  I 
could  eat  them  any  way." 

The  manner  of  the  fish  was  so  imperative 
that  Stephen  Skarridge  did  not  think  of  dis- 


326     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

obeying,  but  taking  a  crowbar  and  a  spade 
from  a  pile  of  agricultural  implements  that 
lay  in  one  corner  of  the  room  (and  which  had 
at  various  times  been  seized  for  debts),  he 
lighted  a  lantern  and  went  down  into  the 
little  back  garden.  There  he  shovelled  away 
the  snow,  and  when  he  reached  the  ground 
he  was  obliged  to  use  the  crowbar  vigorously 
before  he  could  make  any  impression  on 
the  frozen  earth.  After  a  half-hour's  hard 
labor,  he  managed,  by  most  carefully  search 
ing  through  the  earth  thrown  out  of  the  hole 
he  had  made,  to  find  five  frozen  worms. 
These  he  considered  a  sufficient  meal  for  a 
fish  which  would  scarcely  make  seven  meals 
for  himself,  and  so  he  threw  down  his  im 
plements  and  went  into  the  house,  with  his 
lantern,  his  five  frozen  worms,  and  twice  as 
many  frozen  fingers.  When  he  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs  he  was  certain  that  he 
heard  the  murmur  of  voices  from  above. 
He  was  terrified.  The  voices  came  from  the 
room  where  all  his  treasures  lay  !  Could  it 
be  thieves  ? 

Extinguishing  his  lantern  and  taking  off 
his  shoes,  he  softly  crept  up  the  stairs.  He 
had  not  quite  closed  the  door  of  the  room 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDG&S  CHRISTMAS     327 

when  lie  left  it,  and  he  could  now  look  through 
an  opening  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
whole  apartment.  And  such  a  sight  now  met 
his  wide-stretched  eyes ! 

In  his  chair — his  own  arm-chair — by  the 
table,  there  sat  a  dwarf,  whose  head,  as  large 
as  a  prize  cabbage,  was  placed  upon  a  body 
so  small  as  not  to  be  noticeable,  and  from 
which  depended  a  pair  of  little  legs  appearing 
like  the  roots  of  the  before-mentioned  vege 
table.  On  the  table,  busily  engaged  in  dust 
ing  a  day-book  with  a  pen-wiper,  was  a  fairy, 
no  more  than  a  foot  high,  and  as  pretty  and 
graceful  as  a  queen  of  the  ballet  viewed  from 
the  dress  circle.  The  mackerel  still  leaned 
against  the  pile  of  ledgers ;  and — oh  horror ! 
—upon  a  great  iron  box,  in  one  corner,  there 
sat  a  giant,  whose  head,  had  he  stood  up, 
would  have  reached  the  lofty  ceiling ! 

A  chill,  colder  than  the  frosty  earth  and 
air  outside  could  cause,  ran  through  the 
frame  of  Stephen  Skarridge,  as  he  crouched 
by  the  crack  of  the  door  and  looked  upon 
these  dreadful  visitors,  while  their  conversa 
tion,  of  which  he  could  hear  distinctly  every 
word,  caused  the  freezing  perspiration  to 
trickle  in  icy  globules  down  his  back. 


328     STEPHEN  SKARRIDOE'S  CHRISTMAS 

"  He's  gone  to  get  me  some  worms,"  said 
the  mackerel,  "  and  we  might  as  well  settle  it 
all  before  he  conies  back.  For  my  part  I'm 
very  sure  of  what  I  have  been  saying." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  dwarf ;  "  there  can  be 
no  doubt  about  it,  at  all.  I  believe  it,  every 
word." 

"  Of  course  it  is  so,"  said  the  fairy,  stand 
ing  upon  the  day-book,  which  was  now  well 
dusted  ;  "  everybody  knows  it  is." 

"  It  couldn't  be  otherwise,"  said  the  giant, 
in  a  voice  like  thunder  among  the  pines ; 
"  we're  all  agreed  upon  that." 

"  They're  mighty  positive  about  it,  what 
ever  it  is,"  thought  the  trembling  Stephenj 
who  continued  to  look  with  all  his  eyes  and 
to  listen  with  all  his  ears. 

"  Well,"  said  the  dwarf,  leaning  back  in  the 
chair  and  twisting  his  little  legs  around  each 
other  until  they  looked  like  a  rope's  end, 
"  let  us  arrange  matters.  For  my  part,  I 
would  like  to  see  all  crooked  things  made 
straight,  just  as  quickly  as  possible." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  the  fairy,  sitting 
down  on  the  day-book,  and  crossing  her 
dainty  satin-covered  ankles,  from  which  she 
stooped  to  brush  a  trifle  of  dust ;  "I  want 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     329 

to  see  everything  nice,  and  pretty,  and  just 
right." 

"  As  for  ine,"  said  the  mackerel,  "  I'm 
somewhat  divided — in  my  opinion,  I  mean — 
but  whatever  you  all  agree  upon,  will  suit 
me,  I'm  sure." 

"  Then,"  said  the  giant,  rising  to  his  feet, 
and  just  escaping  a  violent  contact  of  his 
head  with  the  ceiling,  "  let  us  get  to  work, 
and  while  we  are  about  it,  we'll  make  a  clean 
sweep  of  it." 

To  this  the  others  all  gave  assent,  and  the 
giant,  after  moving  the  mackerel  to  one  cor 
ner  of  the  table,  and  requesting  the  fairy  to 
stand  beside  the  fish,  spread  all  the  ledgers, 
and  day-books,  and  the  cash,  bill,  and  memo 
randum  books  upon  the  table,  and  opened 
each  of  them  at  the  first  page. 

Then  the  dwarf  climbed  up  on  the  table 
and  took  a  pen,  and  the  fairy  did  the  same, 
and  they  both  set  to  work,  as  hard  as  they 
could,  to  take  an  account  of  Stephen  Skar- 
ridge's  possessions.  As  soon  as  either  of 
them  had  added  up  two  pages  the  giant 
turned  over  the  leaves,  and  he  had  to  be  very 
busy  about  it,  so  active  was  the  dwarf,  who 
had  a  splendid  head  for  accounts,  and  who 


330      STEPHEN  SKARRIDQE'S  CHRISTMAS 

had  balanced  the  same  head  so  long  upon  his 
little  legs  that  he  had  no  manner  of  difficulty 
in  balancing  a  few  ledgers.  The  fairy,  too, 
ran  up  and  down  the  columns  as  if  she  were 
dancing  a  measure  in  which  the  only  move 
ments  were  "  Forward  one  !  "  and  "  Backward 
one  !  "  and  she  got  over  her  business  nearly  as 
fast  as  the  dwarf.  As  for  the  mackerel,  he 
could  not  add  up,  but  the  fairy  told  him  what 
figures  she  had  to  carry  to  the  next  column, 
and  he  remembered  them  for  her,  and  thus 
helped  her  a  great  deal.  In  less  than  half  an 
hour  the  giant  turned  over  the  last  page  of 
the  last  book,  and  the  dwarf  put  down  on  a 
large  sheet  of  foolscap  the  sum  total  of  Ste 
phen  Skarridge's  wealth. 

The  fairy  read  out  the  sum,  and  the  woeful 
listener  at  the  door  was  forced  to  admit  to 
himself  that  they  had  got  it  exactly  right. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  the  giant,  "  here  is  the 
rent  list.  Let  us  make  out  the  schedule." 
In  twenty  minutes  the  giant,  the  dwarf,  and 
the  fairy — the  last  reading  out  the  names  of 
Stephen's  various  tenants,  the  giant  stating 
what  amounts  he  deemed  the  due  of  each 
one,  and  the  dwarf  putting  down  the  sums 
opposite  their  names — had  made  out  the 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     331 

schedule,  and  the  giant  read  it  over  in  a  voice 
that  admitted  of  no  inattention. 

"  Hurrah ! "  said  the  dwarf.  "  That's  done, 
and  I'm  glad,"  and  he  stepped  lightly  from 
the  table  to  the  arm  of  the  chair,  and  then 
down  to  the  seat,  and  jumped  to  the  floor, 
balancing  his  head  in  the  most  wonderful 
way,  as  he  performed  these  agile  feats. 

"Yes,"  said  the  mackerel,  "it's  all  right, 
though  to  be  sure  I'm  somewhat  divided— 

"  Oh !  we  won't  refer  to  that  now,"  said  the 
giant;  "let  by-gones  be  by-gones." 

As  for  the  fairy,  she  did  not  say  a  word, 
but  she  made  a  bounce  to  the  top  of  the  day 
book  which  she  had  dusted,  and  which  now 
lay  closed  near  the  edge  of  the  table,  and  she 
danced  such  a  charming  little  fantaisie  that 
everybody  gazed  at  her  with  delight.  The 
giant  stooped  and  opened  his  mouth  as  if  he 
expected  her  to  whirl  herself  into  it  when  she 
was  done ;  and  the  mackerel  was  actually 
moved  to  tears,  and  tried  to  wipe  his  eyes 
with  his  fin,  but  it  was  not  long  enough,  and 
so  the  tears  rolled  down  and  hardened  into  a 
white  crust  on  the  green  baize  which  covered 
the  table.  The  dwarf  was  on  the  floor,  and 
he  stood  motionless  on  his  little  toes,  as  if  he 


332     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

had  been  a  great  top  dead  asleep.  Even  Ste 
phen,  though  he  was  terribly  agitated,  thought 
the  dance  was  the  most  beautiful  thing  he 
had  ever  seen.  At  length,  with  a  whirl  which 
made  her  look  like  a  snow-ball  on  a  pivot, 
she  stopped  stock-still,  standing  on  one  toe, 
as  if  she  had  fallen  from  the  sky  and  had 
stuck  upright  on  the  day-book. 

" Bravo!  bravo!"  cried  the  dwarf,  and  you 
could  hear  his  little  hands  clapping  beneath 
his  head. 

"  Hurrah ! "  cried  the  giant,  and  he  brought 
his  great  palms  together  with  a  clap  that  rat 
tled  the  window-panes,  like  the  report  of  a 
cannon. 

"  Very  nice !  very  nice,  indeed !  "  said  the 
mackerel.  "  Though  I'm  rather  di " 

"  Oh,  no,  you're  not !  "  cried  the  fairy,  mak 
ing  a  sudden  joyful  jump  at  him,  and  putting 
her  little  hand  on  his  somewhat  distorted  and 
certainly  very  ugly  mouth.  "  You're  nothing 
of  the  kind,  and  now  let's  have  him  in  here 
and  make  him  sign.  Do  you  think  he  will 
do  it  ?  "  said  she,  turning  to  the  giant.  That 
mighty  individual  doubled  up  his  great  right 
fist  like  a  trip-hammer,  and  he  opened  his 
great  left  hand,  as  hard  and  solid  as  an  anvil, 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     333 

and  lie  brought  the  two  together  with  a  sound 
ing  whang ! 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "I  think  he  will." 

"In  that  case,"  said  the  dwarf,  "we  might 
as  well  call  him." 

"  I  sent  him  after  some  worms,"  said  the 
mackerel,  "  but  he  has  not  been  all  this  time 
getting  them.  I  should  not  wonder  at  all  if 
he  had  been  listening  at  the  door  all  the 
while." 

"  We'll  soon  settle  that,"  said  the  dwarf, 
walking  rapidly  across  the  room,  his  head 
rolling  from  side  to  side,  but  still  preserving 
that  admirable  balance  for  which  it  was  so 
justly  noted.  \Ynen  he  reached  the  door  he 
piilled  it  wide  open,  and  there  stood  poor 
Stephen  Skarridge,  trembling  from  head  to 
foot,  with  the  five  frozen  worms  firmly  grasped 
in  his  hands. 

"  Come  in ! "  said  the  giant,  and  Stephen 
walked  in  slowly  and  fearfully,  bowing  as 
he  came,  to  the  several  personages  in  the 
room. 

"  Are  those  my  worms  ?  "  said  the  mackerel. 
"  If  so,  put  them  in  my  mouth,  one  at  a  time. 
There !  not  so  fast.  They  are  frozen,  sure 
enough;  but  do  you  know  that  I  believe  I 


334:     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

like  them  this  way  the  best.  I  never  tasted 
frozen  ones  before." 

By  this  time  the  dwarf  had  mounted  the 
table,  and  opening  the  schedule,  stood  point 
ing  to  an  agreement  written  at  the  bottom 
of  it,  while  the  fairy  had  a  pen  already 
dipped  in  the  ink,  which  she  held  in  her 
hand,  as  she  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the 
schedule. 

"  Now,  sir  !  "  said  the  giant,  "  just  take  your 
seat  in  your  chair,  take  that  pen  in  your  hand, 
and  sign  your  name  below  that  agreement. 
If  you've  been  listening  at  the  door  all  this 
time,  as  I  believe  you  have,  you  have  heard 
the  contents  of  the  schedule,  and  therefore 
need  not  read  it  over." 

Stephen  thought  no  more  of  disobeying 
than  he  did  of  challenging  the  giant  to  a  bat 
tle,  and  he  therefore  seated  himself  in  his 
chair,  and  taking  the  pen  from  the  fairy,  wrote 
his  name  at  the  bottom  of  the  agreement,  al 
though  he  knew  that  by  that  act  he  was  sign 
ing  away  half  his  wealth.  When  he  had  writ 
ten  his  signature  he  laid  down  his  pen  and 
looked  around  to  see  if  anything  more  was  re 
quired  of  him  ;  but  just  at  that  moment  some 
thing  seemed  to  give  way  in  the  back  of  his 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     335 

neck,  his  head  fell  forward  so  as  to  nearly 
strike  the  table,  and  he  awoke ! 

There  was  no  longer  a  schedule,  a  fairy,  a 
dwarf,  or  a  giant.  In  front  of  him  was  the 
mackerel,  split  open  and  lying  on  its  back. 

It  was  all  a  dream ! 

For  an  hour  Stephen  Skarridge  sat  at  his 
table,  his  face  buried  in  his  hands.  When, 
at  last,  his  candle  gave  signs  of  spluttering 
out,  he  arose,  and,  with  a  subdued  and  quiet 
air,  he  went  to  bed. 

The  next  morning  was  bright,  cold,  and 
cheering,  and  Stephen  Skarridge  arose  very 
early,  went  down  to  the  large  front  room  where 
his  treasures  were  kept,  got  out  his  check 
book,  and  for  two  hours  was  busily  emplo}Ted 
in  writing.  When  the  old  woman  who  at 
tended  to  his  household  affairs  arrived  at  the 
usual  hour,  she  was  surprised  at  his  orders  to 
cook,  for  his  breakfast,  the  whole  of  a  mack 
erel  which  he  handed  her.  When  he  had 
finished  his  meal,  at  which  he  ate  at  least  one- 
half  of  the  fish,  he  called  her  up  into  his  room. 
He  then  addressed  her  as  follows  : 

"  Margaret,  you  have  been  my  servant  for 
seventeen  years.  During  that  time  I  have 
paid  you  fifty  cents  per  week  for  your  ser- 


336     STEPHEN  SKAREIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

vices.  I  am  now  convinced  that  the  sum  was 
insufficient ;  you  should  have  had,  at  least,  two 
dollars — considering  you  only  had  one  meal 
in  the  house.  As  you  would  probably  have 
spent  the  money  as  fast  as  I  gave  it  to  you, 
I  shall  pay  you  no  interest  upon  what  I  have 
withheld,  but  here  is  a  check  for  the  unpaid 
balance — one  thousand  three  hundred  and 
twenty -six  dollars.  Invest  it  carefully,  and 
you  will  find  it  quite  a  help  to  you."  Hand 
ing  the  paper  to  the  astounded  woman,  he 
took  up  a  large  wallet,  stuffed  with  checks, 
and  left  the  house. 

He  went  down  into  the  lower  part  of  the 
town,  with  a  countenance  full  of  lively  fervor 
and  generous  light.  When  he  reached  the 
quarter  where  his  property  lay,  he  spent  an 
hour  or  two  in  converse  with  his  tenants,  and 
when  he  had  spoken  with  the  last  one,  his 
wallet  was  nearly  empty,  and  he  was  followed 
by  a  wildly  joyful  crowd,  who  would  have 
brought  a  chair  and  carried  him  in  triumph 
through  the  town,  had  he  not  calmly  waved 
them  back. 

When  the  concourse  of  grateful  ones  had 
left  him,  he  repaired  to  the  house  of  Philip 
Weaver,  the  butcher,  and  hired  his  pony  and 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     337 

spring  cart.  Then  he  went  to  Ambrose 
Smith,  the  baker  (at  whose  shop  he  had 
stopped  on  his  way  doAvn-town),  and  inquired 
if  his  orders  had  been  filled.  Although  it 
was  Christmas  morning,  Ambrose  and  his 
seven  assistants  were  all  as  busy  as  bees,  but 
they  had  not  yet  been  able  to  fill  said  orders. 
In  an  hour,  however,  Ambrose  came  himself 
to  a  candy  store,  where  Stephen  was  treating 
a  crowd  of  delighted  children,  and  told  him 
all  was  ready  and  the  cart  loaded.  At  this, 
Stephen  hurried  to  the  baker's  shop,  mounted 
the  cart,  took  the  reins,  and  drove  rapidly  in 
the  direction  of  the  cottage  of  Arthur  Tyrrell. 
When  he  reached  the  place  it  was  nearly  one 
o'clock. 

Driving  cautiously,  as  he  neared  the  house, 
he  stopped  at  a  little  distance  from  it,  and 
tied  the  horse  to  a  tree.  Then  he  stealthily 
approached  a  window  and  looked  in. 

Arthur  Tyrrell  sat  upon  a  chair,  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  his  arms  folded  and  his 
head  bowed  upon  his  breast.  On  a  stool  by 
his  left  side  sat  his  wife,  her  tearful  eyes 
raised  to  his  sombre  countenance.  Before 
her  father  stood  the  little  girl,  leaning  upon 
his  knees  and  watching  the  varied  expressions 


338     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'8  CHRISTMAS 

that  flashed  across  his  face.  By  his  father's 
right  side,  his  arm  resting  upon  his  parent's 
shoulder,  stood  the  boy,  a  look  of  calm  res 
ignation  far  beyond  his  years  lighting  up  his 
intelligent  face. 

'Twas  a  tableau  never  to  be  forgotten ! 

Able  to  gaze  upon  it  but  a  few  minutes, 
Stephen  Skamdge  pushed  open  the  door  and 
entered  the  room.  His  entrance  was  the 
signal  of  consternation.  The  wife  and  chil 
dren  fled  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room, 
while  Arthur  Tyrrell  arose  and  sternly  con 
fronted  the  intruder. 

"  Ha !  "  said  he.  "  You  have  soon  returned. 
You  think  that  we  can  be  yet  further  de 
spoiled.  Proceed,  take  all  we  have.  There 
is  yet  this,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  two  cents' 
worth  of  lard,  which  still  lay  upon  the 
table. 

"  No,  no,"  faltered  Stephen  Skarridge,  seiz 
ing  the  hand  of  Arthur  Tyrrell  and  warmly 
pressing  it.  "  Keep  it !  Keep  it !  'Tis  not 
for  that  I  came,  but  to  ask  your  pardon  and 
to  beg  your  acceptance  of  a  Christmas  gift. 
Pardon,  for  having  increased  the  weight  of 
your  poverty,  and  a  gift  to  celebrate  the  ad 
vent  of  a  happier  feeling  between  us." 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS     339 

Having  said  this,  Stephen  paused  for  a  re 
ply.  Arthur  Tyrrell  mused  for  a  moment; 
then  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  his  wife  and  his 
children,  and,  in  a  low  but  firm  voice,  he  said : 

"I  pardon  and  accept ! " 

"  That's  right !  "  cried  Skarridge,  his  whole 
being  animated  by  a  novel  delight;  "come 
out  to  the  cart,  you  and  your  son,  and  help 
me  bring  in  the  things,  while  Mrs.  T.  and  the 
girl  set  the  table  as  quickly  as  possible.  The 
cart  was  now  brought  up  before  the  door,  and 
it  was  rapidly  unloaded  by  willing  hands. 
From  under  a  half  dozen  new  blankets,  which 
served  to  keep  the  other  contents  from  con 
tact  with  the  frosty  air,  Stephen  first  handed 
out  a  fine  linen  table-cloth,  and  then  a  basket 
containing  a  dinner-set  of  queensware  (third 
class — seventy-eight  pieces  with  soup-tureen 
and  pickle-dishes)  and  a  half-dozen  knives 
and  forks  (rubber-handled  and  warranted  to 
stand  hot  water).  When  the  cloth  had  been 
spread  and  the  plates  and  dishes  arranged, 
Arthur  Tyrrell  and  his  son,  aided  now  by  the 
wife  and  daughter,  brought  in  the  remaining 
contents  of  the  cart  and  placed  them  on  the 
table,  while,  with  a  bundle  of  kindling  which 
he  had  brought,  and  the  fallen  limbs  which 


34:0     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  GHRISTMAS 

lay  all  about  the  cottage,  Skarridge  made  a 
rousing  fire  on  the  hearth. 

When  the  cart  was  empty  and  the  table 
fully  spread,  it  presented  indeed  a  noble 
sight.  At  one  end  a  great  turkey;  at  the 
other,  a  pair  of  geese;  a  duck  upon  one  side 
and  a  pigeon-pie  upon  the  other ;  cranberries, 
potatoes,  white  and  sweet ;  onions,  parsnips, 
celery,  bread,  butter,  beets  (pickled  and  but 
tered),  pickled  cucumbers,  and  walnuts,  and 
several  kinds  of  sauces,  made  up  the  first 
course ;  while  upon  a  side-table  stood  mince- 
pies,  apple-pies,  purnpkin-pies,  apples,  nuts, 
almonds,  raisins,  and  a  Luge  pitcher  of  cider, 
for  dessert. 

It  was  impossible  for  the  Tyrrell  family  to 
gaze  unmoved  upon  this  bounteously  spread 
table,  and  after  silently  clasping  each  other 
for  a  moment,  they  sat  down,  with  joyful, 
thankful  hearts,  to  a  meal  far  better  than 
they  had  seen  for  years.  At  their  earnest 
solicitation  Mr.  Skarridge  joined  them. 

When  the  meal  was  over,  and  there  was 
little  left  but  empty  dishes,  they  all  arose, 
and  Skarridge  prepared  to  take  his  leave. 

"  But  before  I  go,"  said  he,  "  I  would  leave 
with  you  a  further  memento  of  my  good  feel- 


STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE' S  CHRISTMAS     341 

ing  and  friendship.  You  know  my  Hillsdale 
farm,  in  the  next  township  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  cried  Arthur  Tyrrell ;  "  is  it 
possible  that  you  will  give  me  a  position 
there?" 

"  I  make  you  a  present  of  the  whole  farm," 
said  Skarridge.  "  There  are  two  hundred 
and  forty-two  acres,  sixty  of  which  are  in 
timber ;  large  mansion-house,  two  good  barns, 
and  cow  and  chicken  houses  ;  a  well,  covered 
in;  an  orchard  of  young  fruit-trees,  and  a 
stream  of  water  flowing  through  the  place. 
The  estate  is  well  stocked  with  blooded  cat 
tle,  horses,  etc.,  and  all  necessary  farming 
utensils.  Possession  immediate." 

Without  waiting  for  the  dumfounded  Tyr 
rell  to  speak,  Skarridge  turned  quickly  to  his 
wife,  and  said  :  "  Here,  madam,  is  my  Christ 
mas-gift  to  you.  In  this  package  you  will  find 
shares  of  the  New  York  Central  and  Hudson 
(sixes,  of  'eighty -three),  of  the  Fort  "Wayne 
(guaranteed),  and  of  the  St.  Paul's  (preferred) ; 
also  bonds  of  the  Delaware,  Lackawanna, 
and  Western  (second  mortgage),  and  of  the 
Michigan  Seven  Per  Cent.  War  Loan.  In  all 
these  amount  to  nine  thousand  and  eighty-two 
dollars ;  but  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  sell- 


2     STEPHEN  SKARRIDGE'S  CHRISTMAS 

ing  at  a  sacrifice,  for  immediate  wants,  I  have 
taken  the  liberty  of  placing  in  the  package 
one  thousand  dollars  in  greenbacks.  And 
now,  dear  friends,  adieu !  " 

But  the  grateful  family  could  not  allow  this 
noble  man  to  leave  them  thus.  Arthur  Tyr 
rell  seized  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his 
bosom,  and  then,  as  if  overcome  with  emo 
tion,  Mrs.  Tyrrell  fell  upon  her  benefactor's 
neck,  while  the  children  gratefully  grasped 
the  skirts  of  his  coat.  With  one  arm  around 
the  neck  of  the  still  young,  once  beautiful, 
and  now  fast  improving  Mrs.  Tyrrell,  Stephen 
Skarridge  stood  for  a  few  minutes,  haunted 
by  memories  of  the  past.  Then  he  spoke : 

"  Once,"  said  he,  his  voice  trembling  the 
while,  "  once — I,  too — loved  such  a  one.  But 
it  is  all  over  now — and  the  grass  waves  over 
her  grave.  Farewell,  farewell  dear  friends !  " 
and  dashing  away  a  tear,  he  tore  himself 
from  the  fervent  family,  and  swiftly  left  the 
house. 

Springing  into  the  cart,  he  drove  rapidly 
into  the  town — a  happy  man  ! 

Did  you  ever  before  read  a  story  like  this  ? 


MY   UNWILLING   NEIGHBOR 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

I  WAS  about  twenty-five  years  old  when  I 
began  life  as  the  owner  of  a  vineyard  in 
western  Virginia.  I  bought  a  large  tract  of 
land,  the  greater  part  of  which  lay  upon  the 
sloping  side  of  one  of  the  foot-hills  of  the 
Blue  Eidge,  the  exposure  being  that  most 
favorable  to  the  growth  of  the  vine.  I  am 
an  enthusiastic  lover  of  the  country  and  of 
country  life,  and  believed  that  I  should  de 
rive  more  pleasure  as  well  as  profit  from  the 
culture  of  my  far-stretching  vineyard  than  I 
would  from  ordinary  farm  operations. 

I  built  myself  a  good  house  of  moderate 
size  upon  a  little  plateau  on  the  higher  part 
of  my  estate.  Sitting  in  my  porch,  smoking 
my  pipe  after  the  labors  of  the  day,  I  could 
look  down  over  my  vineyard  into  a  beautiful 
valley,  with  here  and  there  a  little  curling 
smoke  arising  from  some  of  the  few  dwellings 
which  were  scattered  about  among  the  groves 


346          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

and  spreading  fields,  and  above  this  beauty 
I  could  imagine  all  my  hillside  clothed  in 
green  and  purple. 

My  family  consisted  of  myself  alone.  It 
is  true  that  I  expected  some  day  that  there 
would  be  others  in  my  house  besides  myself, 
but  I  was  not  ready  for  that  yet. 

During  the  summer  I  found  it  very  pleas 
ant  to  live  by  myself.  It  was  a  novelty,  and 
I  could  arrange  and  manage  everything  in  my 
own  fashion,  which  was  a  pleasure  I  had  not 
enjoyed  when  I  lived  in  my  father's  house ; 
but  when  winter  came  I  found  it  very  lonely. 
Even  my  servants  lived  in  a  cabin  at  some 
little  distance,  and  there  were  many  dark  and 
stormy  evenings  when  the  company  even  of 
a  bore  would  have  been  welcome  to  me. 
Sometimes  I  walked  over  to  the  town  and 
visited  my  friends  there,  but  this  was  not 
feasible  on  stormy  nights,  and  the  winter 
seemed  to  me  a  very  long  one. 

But  spring  came,  out-door  operations  be 
gan,  and  for  a  few  weeks  I  felt  again  that  I 
was  all-sufficient  for  my  own  pleasure  and 
comfort.  Then  came  a  change.  One  of  those 
seasons  of  bad  and  stormy  weather  which  so 
frequently  follow  an  early  spring  settled  down 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         347 

upon  my  spirits  and  my  hillside.  It  rained, 
it  was  cold,  fierce  winds  blew,  and  I  became 
more  anxious  for  somebody  to  talk  to  than  I 
had  been  at  any  time  during  the  winter. 

One  night,  when  a  very  bad  storm  was  rag 
ing,  I  went  to  bed  early,  and  as  I  lay  awake 
I  revolved  in  my  mind  a  scheme  of  which 
I  had  frequently  thought  before.  I  would 
build  a  neat  little  house  on  my  grounds,  not 
very  far  away  from  my  house,  but  not  too 
near,  and  I  would  ask  Jack  Brandiger  to 
come  there  and  live.  Jack  was  a  friend  of 
mine  who  was  reading  law  in  the  town,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  that  it  would  be  much  more 
pleasant,  and  even  more  profitable,  to  read 
law  on  a  pretty  hillside  overlooking  a  charm 
ing  valley,  with  woods  and  mountains  behind 
and  above  him,  where  he  could  ramble  to  his 
heart's  content. 

I  had  thought  of  asking  Jack  to  come  and 
live  with  me,  but  this  idea  I  soon  dismissed. 
I  am  a  very  particular  person,  and  Jack  was 
not ;  he  left  his  pipes  about  in  all  sorts  of 
places — sometimes  when  they  were  still 
lighted.  When  he  came  to  see  me  he  was 
quite  as  likely  to  put  his  hat  over  the  ink 
stand  as  to  put  it  anywhere  else.  But  if 


348         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

Jack  lived  at  a  little  distance,  and  we  could 
go  backwards  and  forwards  to  see  each  other 
whenever  we  pleased,  that  would  be  quite  an 
other  thing.  He  could  do  as  he  pleased  in 
his  own  house,  and  I  could  do  as  I  pleased 
in  mine,  and  we  might  have  many  pleasant 
evenings  together.  This  was  a  cheering  idea, 
and  I  was  planning  how  we  might  arrange 
with  the  negro  woman  who  managed  my 
household  affairs  to  attend  also  to  those  of 
Jack  when  I  fell  asleep. 

I  did  not  sleep  long  before  I  was  awakened 
by  the  increased  violence  of  the  storm.  My 
house  shook  with  the  fury  of  the  wind ;  the 
rain  seemed  to  be  pouring  on  its  roof  and 
northern  side  as  if  there  were  a  waterfall 
above  us  ;  and  every  now  and  then  I  could 
hear  a  shower  of  hailstones  rattling  against 
the  shutters.  My  bedroom  was  one  of  the 
rooms  on  the  lower  floor,  and  even  there  I 
could  hear  the  pounding  of  the  deluge  and 
the  hailstones  upon  the  roof. 

All  this  was  very  doleful,  and  had  a  ten 
dency  to  depress  the  spirits  of  a  man,  awake 
and  alone  in  a  good-sized  house  ;  but  I  shook 
off  this  depression.  It  was  not  agreeable  to 
be  up  here  by  myself  in  such  a  terrible  storm, 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         349 

but  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  as  my 
house  was  new  and  very  strongly  built,  be 
ing  constructed  of  logs,  weather-boarded  out 
side  and  ceiled  within.  It  would  require  a 
hurricane  to  blow  off  the  roof,  and  I  believed 
my  shutters  to  be  hail-proof ;  so,  as  there  was 
no  reason  to  stay  awake,  I  turned  over  and 
went  to  sleep. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  it  was  before  I 
was  awakened  again,  this  time  not  by  the 
noise  of  the  storm,  but  by  a  curious  move 
ment  of  my  bedstead.  I  had  once  felt  the 
slight  shock  of  an  earthquake,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  this  must  be  something  of  the 
kind  ;  certainly  my  bed  moved  under  me.  I 
sat  up ;  the  room  was  pitchy  dark.  In  a  mo 
ment  I  felt  another  movement,  but  this  time 
it  did  not  seem  to  me  to  resemble  an  earth 
quake  shock;  such  motion,  I  think,  is  gen 
erally  in  horizontal  directions,  while  that 
which  I  felt  was  more  like  the  movement  of 
a  ship  upon  the  water.  The  storm  was  at 
its  height,  the  wind  raged  and  roared,  and 
the  rain  seemed  to  be  pouring  down  as  heav 
ily  as  ever. 

I  was  about  to  get  up  and  light  the  lamp 
for  even  the  faintest  candle  flame  would  be 


350         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

some  sort  of  company  at  such  a  grewsome 
moment,  when  my  bedstead  gave  another 
movement,  more  shiplike  than  before.  It 
actually  lurched  forward  as  if  it  were  de 
scending  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  but  un 
like  a  ship,  it  did  not  rise  again,  but  remained 
in  such  a  slanting  position  that  I  began  to 
slide  down  toward  the  foot.  I  believe  that  if 
it  had  not  been  a  bedstead  provided  with  a 
foot-board,  I  should  have  slipped  out  upon 
the  floor. 

I  did  not  jump  out  of  bed ;  I  did  not  do 
anything.  I  was  trying  to  think,  to  under 
stand  the  situation,  to  find  out  whether  I  was 
asleep  or  awake,  when  I  became  aware  of 
noises  in  the  room  and  all  over  the  house, 
which  even  through  the  din  of  the  storm 
made  themselves  noticed  by  their  peculiarity. 
Tables,  chairs,  everything  in  the  room,  seemed 
to  be  grating  and  grinding  on  the  floor,  and 
in  a  moment  there  was  a  crash.  I  knew  what 
that  was  ;  it  was  my  lamp,  which  had  slipped 
off  the  table.  Any  doubt  on  that  point  would 
have  been  dispelled  by  the  smell  of  kerosene, 
which  filled  the  air  of  the  room. 

The  motion  of  the  bed,  which  I  now  be 
lieve  must  have  been  the  motion  of  the  whole 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         351 

house,  still  continued ;  but  the  grating  noises 
in  the  room  gradually  ceased,  from  which  I 
inferred  that  the  furniture  had  brought  up 
against  the  front  wall  of  the  room. 

It  now  was  impossible  for  me  to  get  up 
and  strike  a  light,  for  to  do  so,  with  kerosene 
oil  all  over  the  floor  and  its  vapor  diffused 
through  the  room,  would  probably  result  in 
setting  the  house  on  fire ;  so  I  must  stay  in 
darkness  and  wait.  I  do  not  think  I  was  very 
much  frightened — I  was  so  astonished  that 
there  was  no  room  in  my  mind  for  fear.  In 
fact,  all  my  mental  energies  were  occupied  in 
trying  to  find  out  what  had  happened.  It 
required,  however,  only  a  few  more  minutes 
of  reflection  and  a  few  more  minutes  of  the 
grating,  bumping,  trembling  of  my  house 
to  enable  me  to  make  up  my  mind  what  was 
happening  :  my  house  was  sliding  downhill ! 

The  wind  must  have  blown  the  building 
from  its  foundations,  and,  upon  the  slippery 
surface  of  the  hillside,  probably  lashed  into 
liquid  mud  by  the  pouring  rain,  it  was  mak 
ing  its  way  down  toward  the  valley!  In  a 
flash  my  mind's  eye  ran  over  the  whole  sur 
face  of  the  country  beneath  me  as  far  as  I 
knew  it.  I  was  almost  positive  that  there 


352          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

was  no  precipice,  no  terrible  chasm  into 
which  my  house  might  fall.  There  was  noth 
ing  but  sloping  hillside,  and  beneath  that  a 
wide  stretch  of  fields. 

Now  there  was  a  new  and  sudden  noise  of 
heavy  objects  falling  upon  the  roof,  and  I 
knew  what  that  meant :  my  chimney  had 
been  wrenched  from  its  foundations,  and  the 
upper  part  of  it  had  now  toppled  over.  I 
could  hear,  through  the  storm,  the  bricks 
banging  and  sliding  upon  the  slanting  roof. 
Continuous  sounds  of  cracking  and  snapping 
came  to  me  through  the  closed  front  windows, 
and  these  were  caused  I  supposed  by  the  de 
struction  of  the  stakes  of  my  vines,  as  the 
heavy  house  moved  over  them. 

Of  course,  when  I  thoroughly  understood 
the  state  of  the  case,  my  first  impulse  was  to 
spring  out  of  bed,  and,  as  quickly  as  possible, 
to  get  out  of  that  thumping  and  sliding  house ; 
but  I  restrained  myself.  The  floor  might  be 
covered  with  broken  glass,  I  might  not  be  able 
to  find  my  clothes  in  the  darkness  and  in  the 
jumble  of  furniture  at  the  end  of  the  room, 
and  even  if  I  could  dress  myself,  it  would  be 
folly  to  jump  out  in  the  midst  of  that  raging 
storm  into  a  probable  mass  of  wreckage 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         353 

which  I  could  not  see ;  it  would  be  far  better 
to  remain  dry  and  warm  under  my  roof. 
There  was  no  reason  whatever  to  suppose 
that  the  house  would  go  to  pieces,  or  that  it 
would  turn  over ;  it  must  stop  some  time  or 
other ;  and,  until  it  did  so,  I  would  be  safer 
in  my  bed  than  anywhere  else.  Therefore  in 
my  bed  I  stayed. 

Sitting  upright,  with  my  feet  pressed 
against  the  foot-board,  I  listened  and  felt. 
The  noises  of  the  storm,  and  the  cracking  and 
the  snapping  and  grinding  before  me  and  un 
der  me,  still  continued,  although  I  sometimes 
thought  that  the  wind  was  moderating  a  lit 
tle,  and  that  the  strange  motion  was  becom 
ing  more  regular.  I  believed  the  house  was 
moving  faster  than  when  it  first  began-  its 
strange  career,  but  that  it  was  sliding  over  a 
smooth  surface.  Now  I  noticed  a  succession 
of  loud  cracks  and  snaps  at  the  front  of  the 
house,  and,  from  the  character  of  the  sounds, 
I  concluded  that  my  little  front  porch,  which 
had  been  acting  as  a  cutwater  at  the  bow  of 
my  shiplike  house,  had  yielded  at  last  to  the 
rough  contact  with  the  ground,  and  would 
probably  soon  be  torn  away.  This  did  not 
disturb  me,  for  the  house  must  still  be  firm. 


354         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

It  was  not  long  before  I  perceived  that  the 
slanting  of  my  bed  was  becoming  less  and 
less,  and  also  I  was  quite  sure  that  the  house 
was  moving  more  slowly.  Then  the  crack 
ings  and  snappings  before  my  front  wall 
ceased  altogether.  The  bed  resumed  its  or 
dinary  horizontal  position,  and,  although  I 
did  not  know  at  what  moment  the  house  had 
ceased  sliding  and  had  come  to  a  standstill,  I 
was  sure  that  it  had  done  so.  It  was  now 
resting  upon  a  level  surface.  The  room  was 
still  perfectly  dark,  and  the  storm  continued. 
It  was  useless  for  me  to  get  up  until  day 
light  came — I  could  not  see  what  had  hap 
pened — so  I  lay  back  upon  my  pillow  and 
tried  to  imagine  upon  what  level  portion  of 
my  farm  I  had  stranded.  While  doing  this 
I  fell  asleep. 

When  I  woke,  a  little  light  was  stealing  into 
the  room  through  the  blinds  of  my  shutters. 
I  quickly  slipped  out  of  bed,  opened  a  window, 
and  looked  out.  Day  was  just  breaking,  the 
rain  and  wind  had  ceased,  and  I  could  discern 
objects  ;  but  it  seemed  as  if  I  needed  some 
light  in  my  brain  to  enable  me  to  compre 
hend  what  I  saw.  My  eyes  fell  upon  nothing 
familiar. 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          355 

I  did  not  stop  to  investigate,  however,  from 
my  window.  I  found  my  clothes  huddled  to 
gether  with  the  furniture  at  the  front  end  of 
the  room,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  dressed  I  went 
into  the  hall  and  then  to  my  front  door.  I 
quickly  jerked  this  open,  and  was  about  to 
step  outside  when,  suddenly,  I  stopped.  I 
was  positive  that  my  front  porch  had  been 
destroyed ;  but  there  I  saw  a  porch,  a  little 
lower  than  mine  and  a  great  deal  wider,  and 
on  the  other  side  of  it,  not  more  than  eight 
feet  from  me,  was  a  window — the  window  of 
a  house  ;  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  window 
was  a  face — the  face  of  a  young  girl !  As  I 
stood  staring  in  blank  amazement  at  the 
house  which  presented  itself  at  my  front  door, 
the  face  at  the  window  disappeared,  and  I 
was  left  to  contemplate  the  scene  by  myself. 
I  ran  to  my  back  door  and  threw  it  open. 
There  I  saw,  stretching  up  the  fields  and  far 
up  the  hillside,  the  wide  path  which  my 
house  had  made  as  it  came  down  from  its 
elevated  position  to  the  valley  beneath,  where 
it  had  ended  its  onward  career  by  stopping 
up  against  another  house.  As  I  looked  from 
the  back  porch  I  saw  that  the  ground  still 
continued  to  slope,  so  that  if  my  house  had 


356         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

not  found  in  its  path  another  building,  it 
would  probably  have  proceeded  somewhat 
farther  on  its  course.  It  was  lighter,  and  I 
saw  bushes  and  fences  and  outbuildings — I 
was  in  a  back  yard. 

Almost  breathless  with  amazement  and 
consternation,  I  ran  again  to  the  front  door. 
When  I  reached  it  I  found  a  young  woman 
standing  on  the  porch  of  the  house  before 
me.  I  was  about  to  say  something — I  know 
not  what — when  she  put  her  finger  on  her  lips 
and  stepped  forward. 

"Please  don't  speak  loudly,"  she  said.  "I 
am  afraid  it  will  frighten  mother;  she  is 
asleep  yet.  I  suppose  you  and  your  house 
have  been  sliding  down  hill  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  has  happened,"  said  I ;  "  but 
I  cannot  understand  it ;  it  seems  to  me  the 
most  amazing  thing  that  ever  took  place  on 
the  face  of  the  earth." 

"It  is  very  queer,"  said  she;  "but  hurri 
canes  do  blow  away  houses,  and  that  must 
have  been  a  hurricane  we  had  last  night,  for 
the  wind  was  strong  enough  to  loosen  any 
house.  I  have  often  wondered  if  that  house 
would  ever  slide  downhill." 

"My  house?" 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         357 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Soon  after  it  was  built 
I  began  to  think  what  a  nice  clean  sweep  it 
could  make  from  the  place  where  it  seemed 
to  be  stuck  to  the  side  of  the  mountain,  right 
down  here  into  the  valley." 

I  could  not  talk  with  a  girl  like  this;  at 
least  I  could  not  meet  her  on  her  own  con 
versational  grounds.  I  was  so  agitated  my 
self  that  it  seemed  unnatural  that  any  one  to 
whom  I  should  speak  should  not  also  be  agi 
tated. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  I  asked,  rather  brusque 
ly  ;  "  at  least,  to  whom  does  this  house  be 
long?" 

"  This  is  my  mother's  house,"  said  she. 
"  My  mother  is  Mrs.  Carson.  We  happen 
just  now  to  be  living  here  by  ourselves,  so  I 
cannot  call  011  any  man  to  help  you  do  any 
thing.  My  brother  has  always  lived  with  us, 
but  last  week  he  went  away." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  a  bit  astonished  at 
what  has  happened,"  said  I. 

She  was  rather  a  pretty  girl ;  of  a  cheerful 
disposition,  I  should  say,  for  several  times 
she  had  smiled  as  she  spoke. 

"  Oh,  I  am  astonished,"  she  answered ;  "  or 
at  least  I  was,  but  I  have  had  time  enough 


358          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

to  get  over  some  of  it.  It  was  at  least  an 
hour  ago  when  I  was  awakened  by  hearing 
something  crack  in  the  yard.  I  went  to  a 
window  and  looked  out,  and  could  just  barely 
see  that  something  like  a  big  building  had 
grown  up  during  the  night.  Then  I  watched 
it,  and  watched  it,  until  I  made  out  it  was  a 
whole  house ;  and  after  that  it  was  not  long 
before  I  guessed  what  had  happened.  It 
seemed  a  simpler  thing  to  me,  you  know, 
than  it  did  to  you,  because  I  had  often  thought 
about  it,  and  probably  you  never  had." 

"You  are  right  there,"  said  I,  earnestly. 
"  It  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to 
imagine  such  a  thing." 

"  At  first  I  thought  there  was  nobody  in  the 
house,"  said  she ;  "  but  when  I  heard  some 
one  moving  about,  I  came  down  to  tell  who 
ever  had  arrived  not  to  make  a  noise.  I 
see,"  she  added,  with  another  of  her  smiles, 
"that  you  think  I  am  a  very  strange  person 
not  to  be  more  flurried  by  what  has  hap 
pened  ;  but  really  I  cannot  think  of  anything 
else  just  now  except  what  mother  will  say 
and  do  when  she  comes  down  and  finds  you 
and  your  house  here  at  the  back  door.  I  am 
very  sure  she  will  not  like  it." 


MY   UNWILLING  NKWIIBOH          350 

"Like  it!"  I  exclaimed.  "Who  on  earth 
could  like  it  ?  " 

"Please  speak  more  gently,"  she  said. 
"  Mother  is  always  a  little  irritable  when  her 
night's  rest  has  been  broken,  and  I  would  not 
like  to  have  her  wakened  up  suddenly  now. 
But  really,  Mr.  Warren,  I  haven't  the  least 
idea  in  the  world  how  she  will  take  this  thing. 
I  must  go  in  and  be  with  her  when  she 
wakes,  so  that  I  can  explain  just  what  has 
happened." 

"One  moment,"  I  said.  "You  know  my 
name." 

"  Of  course  I  know  your  name,"  she 
ansAvered.  "  Could  that  house  be  up  there 
on  the  hillside  for  more  than  a  year  without 
my  knowing  who  lived  in  it  ?  "  With  this, 
she  went  indoors. 

I  could  not  help  smiling  when  I  thought 
of  the  young  lady  regretting  that  there  was 
no  man  in  the  house  who  might  help  me  do 
something.  What  could  anybody  do  in  a 
case  like  this?  I  turned  and  went  into  my 
house.  I  entered  the  various  rooms  on  the 
lower  floor,  and  saw  no  signs  of  any  particu 
lar  damage  except  that  everything  movable  in 
each  room  was  jumbled  together  against  the 


360         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

front  wall.  But  when  I  looked  out  of  the 
back  door  I  found  that  the  porch  there  was 
a  good  deal  wrecked,  which  I  had  not  noticed 
before. 

I  went  upstairs,  and  found  everything 
very  much  as  it  was  below.  Nothing  seemed 
to  have  been  injured  except  the  chimney  and 
the  porches.  I  thanked  my  stars  that  I  had 
used  hard  wood  instead  of  mortar  for  the 
ceilings  of  my  rooms. 

I  was  about  to  go  into  my  bedroom,  when 
I  heard  a  woman  scream,  and  of  course  I  hur 
ried  to  the  front.  There  on  the  back  porch  of 
her  house  stood  Mrs.  Carson.  She  was  a 
woman  of  middle  age,  and,  as  I  glanced  at 
her,  I  saw  where  her  daughter  got  her  good 
looks.  But  the  placidity  and  cheerfulness  of 
the  younger  face  were  entirely  wanting  in  the 
mother.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  her  cheeks  were 
red,  her  mouth  was  partly  opened,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  could  almost  see  that  her 
breath  was  hot. 

"  Is  this  your  house  ?  "  she  cried,  the  mo 
ment  her  eyes  fell  upon  me ;  "  and  what  is  it 
doing  here?" 

I  did  not  immediately  answer.  I  looked 
at  the  angry  woman,  and  behind  her  I  saw, 


UNWILLING  NUIG1IBOR         361 


through  the  open  door,  the  daughter  crossing 
the  hallway.  It  was  plain  that  she  had  de 
cided  to  let  me  have  it  out  with  her  mother 
without  interference.  As  briefly  and  as 
clearly  as  I  could,  I  explained  what  had  hap 
pened. 

"  What  is  all  that  to  me  ?  "  she  screamed. 
"  It  doesn't  matter  to  me  how  your  house  got 
here.  There  have  been  storms  ever  since  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  and  I  never  heard  of 
any  of  them  taking  a  house  into  a  person's 
back  yard.  You  ought  not  to  have  built  your 
house  where  any  such  thing  could  happen. 
But  all  this  is  nothing  to  me.  I  don't  under 
stand,  now,  how  your  house  did  get  here,  and 
I  don't  want  to  understand  it.  All  I  want  is 
for  you  to  take  it  away." 

"  I  will  do  that,  madam,  just  as  soon  as  I 
can.  You  may  be  very  sure  I  will  do  that. 
But- 

"  Can  you  do  it  now  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Can 
you  do  it  to-day?  I  don't  want  a  minute 
lost.  I  have  not  been  outside  to  see  what 
damage  has  been  done,  but  the  first  thing  to 
do  is  to  take  your  house  away." 

"  I  am  going  to  the  town  now,  madam,  to 
summon  assistance." 


362          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

Mrs.  Carson  made  no  answer,  but  she 
turned  and  walked  to  the  end  of  her  porch. 
There  she  suddenly  gave  a  scream,  which 
quickly  brought  her  daughter  from  the  house. 
"Kitty!  Kitty!"  cried  her  mother.  "Do 
you  know  what  he  has  done  ?  He  has  gone 
right  over  my  round  flower  garden ;  his  house 
is  sitting  on  it  this  minute ! " 

"  But  he  could  not  help  it,  mother,"  said 
Kitty. 

"Help  it!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Carson.  "I 
didn't  expect  him  to  help  it ;  what  I  want — 
Suddenly  she  stopped.  Her  eyes  flashed 
brighter,  her  mouth  opened  wider,  and  she 
became  more  and  more  excited  as  she  noticed 
the  absence  of  sheds,  fences,  or  vegetable 
beds,  which  had  found  themselves  in  the 
course  of  my  all-destroying  dwelling. 

It  was  now  well  on  in  the  morning,  and 
some  of  the  neighbors  had  become  aware  of 
the  strange  disaster  which  had  happened  to 
me,  although  if  they  had  heard  the  news 
from  Mrs.  Carson  they  might  have  supposed 
that  it  was  a  disaster  which  had  happened 
only  to  her.  As  they  gazed  at  the  two  houses 
so  closely  jammed  together,  all  of  them  won 
dered,  some  of  them  even  laughed,  but  not 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         363 

one  offered  a  suggestion  which  afforded  sat 
isfaction  to  Mrs.  Carson  or  myself.  The  gen 
eral  opinion  was  that,  now  iny  house  was 
there,  it  would  have  to  stay  there,  for  there 
were  not  enough  horses  in  the  State  to  pull 
it  back  up  that  mountain-side.  To  be  sure, 
it  might  possibly  be  drawn  off  sidewise ;  but 
whether  it  was  moved  one  way  or  the  other, 
a  lot  of  Mrs.  Carson's  trees  would  have  to  be 
cut  down  to  let  it  pass. 

"  Which  shall  never  happen ! "  cried  that 
good  lady.  "  If  nothing  else  can  be  done,  it 
must  be  taken  apart  and  hauled  off  in  carts ; 
but,  no  matter  how  it  is  managed,  it  must  be 
moved,  and  that  immediately." 

Miss  Carson  now  prevailed  upon  her  mother 
to  go  into  the  house,  and  I  stayed  and  talked 
to  the  men  and  a  few  women  who  had  gath 
ered  outside. 

When  they  had  said  all  they  had  to  say, 
and  seen  all  there  was  to  see,  these  people 
went  home  to  their  breakfasts.  I  entered 
my  house,  but  not  by  the  front  door,  for  to  do 
that  I  would  have  been  obliged  to  trespass 
upon  Mrs.  Carson's  back  porch.  I  got  my 
hat,  and  was  about  to  start  for  the  town, 
when  I  heard  my  name  called.  Turning  into 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 


the  hall,  I  saw  Miss  Carson,  who  was  stand 
ing  at  my  front  door. 

"  Mr.  Warren,"  said  she,  "  you  haven't  any 
way  of  getting  breakfast,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  I.  "  My  servants  are  up 
there  in  their  cabin,  and  I  suppose  they  are 
too  much  scared  to  come  down.  But  I  am 
going  to  town  to  see  what  can  be  done  about 
my  house,  and  will  get  my  breakfast  there." 

"  It's  a  long  way  to  go  without  anything  to 
eat,"  she  said,  "  and  we  can  give  you  some 
breakfast.  But  I  want  to  ask  you  something. 
I  am  in  a  good  deal  of  perplexity  ;  our  two 
servants  are  out  at  the  front  of  the  house, 
but  they  positively  refuse  to  come  in.  They 
are  afraid  that  your  house  may  begin  sliding 
again  and  crush  them  all,  so  I  shall  have 
to  get  breakfast.  But  what  bothers  me  is 
trying  to  find  our  well.  I  have  been-  out 
side,  and  can  see  no  signs  of  it." 

"  Where  was  your  well  ?  "  I  gasped. 

"  It  ought  to  be  somewhere  near  the  back 
of  your  house,"  she  said.  "May  I  go 
through  your  hall  and  look  out  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  may,"  I  cried,  and  I  pre 
ceded  her  to  my  back  door. 

"  Now,  it  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  after  sur- 


BEGAN   TO   SEARCH   FOR   THE   WELL. 


MT   UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR         365 

veying  the  scene  of  desolation  immediately 
before,  and  looking  from  side  to  side,  toward 
objects  which  had  remained  untouched,  "that 
your  house  has  passed  directly  over  our  well, 
and  must  have  carried  away  the  little  shed 
and  the  pump  and  everything  above  ground. 
I  should  not  wonder  a  bit,"  she  continued 
slowly,  "  if  it  is  under  your  porch." 

I  jumped  to  the  ground,  for  the  steps  were 
shattered,  and  began  to  search  for  the  well, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  I  discovered  its 
round  dark  opening,  which  was,  as  Miss  Car 
son  had  imagined,  under  one  end  of  my 
porch. 

"What  can  we  do?"  she  asked.  "  Wo 
can't  have  breakfast  or  get  along  at  all  with 
out  water."  It  was  a  terribly  depressing 
thing  to  me  to  think  that  I,  or  rather  my 
house,  had  given  these  people  so  much 
trouble;  but  I  speedily  assured  Miss  Car 
son  that  if  she  could  find  a  bucket  and  a  rope, 
which  I  could  lower  into  the  well,  I  would 
provide  her  with  water. 

She  went  into  her  house  to  see  what  she 
could  find,  and  I  tore  away  the  broken  planks 
of  the  porch,  so  that  I  could  get  to  the  well ; 
and  then,  when  she  came  with  a  tin  pail  and 


306          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

a  clotlies-line,  I  went  to  work  to  haul  up 
water  and  carry  it  to  her  back  door. 

"  I  don't  want  mother  to  find  out  what  has 
happened  to  the  well,"  she  said ;  "  for  she 
has  enough  on  her  mind  already." 

Mrs.  Carson  was  a  woman  with  some  good 
points  in  her  character.  After  a  time  she 
called  to  me  herself,  and  told  me  to  come  in 
to  breakfast ;  but  during  the  meal  she  talked 
very  earnestly  to  me  about  the  amazing  tres 
pass  I  had  committed  and  about  the  means 
which  should  be  taken  to  repair  the  damages 
my  house  had  done  to  her  property.  I  was 
as  optimistic  as  I  could  be,  and  the  young- 
lady  spoke  very  cheerfully  and  hopefully 
about  the  affair,  so  that  we  were  beginning 
to '  get  along  somewhat  pleasantly,  when, 
suddenly,  Mrs.  Carson  sprang  to  her  feet. 
"  Heavens  and  earth  !  "  she  cried,  "  this  house 
is  moving ! " 

She  was  not  mistaken.  I  had  felt  beneath 
my  feet  a  sudden  sharp  shock — not  severe, 
but  unmistakable.  I  remembered  that  both 
houses  stood  upon  slightly  sloping  ground ; 
my  blood  turned  cold,  my  heart  stood  still — 
even  Miss  Carson  was  pale ! 

When  we  had  rushed  out-of-doors  to  see 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          367 

what  had  happened,  or  what  was  going  to 
happen,  I  soon  found  that  we  had  been  need 
lessly  frightened.  Some  of  the  broken  tim 
bers  on  which  my  house  had  been  partially 
resting  had  given  away,  and  the  front  part  of 
the  building  had  slightly  descended,  jarring 
as  it  did  so  the  other  house  against  which  it 
rested.  I  endeavored  to  prove  to  Mrs.  Car 
son  that  the  result  was  encouraging  rather 
than  otherwise,  for  my  house  was  now  more 
firmly  settled  than  it  had  been ;  but  she  did 
not  value  the  opinion  of  a  man  who  did  not 
know  enough  to  put  his  house  in  a  place 
where  it  would  be  likely  to  stay,  and  she 
could  eat  no  more  breakfast,  and  was  even 
afraid  to  stay  under  her  own  roof  until  ex 
perienced  mechanics  had  been  summoned  to 
look  into  the  state  of  affairs. 

I  hurried  away  to  the  town,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  several  carpenters  and  masons 
were  on  the  spot.  After  a  thorough  exami 
nation,  they  assured  Mrs.  Carson  that  there 
was  no  danger,  that  my  house  would  do  no 
further  damage  to  her  premises  ;  but,  to  make 
things  certain,  they  would  bring  some  heavy 
beams  and  brace  the  front  of  my  house 
against  her  cellar  wall.  When  that  should 


368          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

be  done  it  would  be  impossible  for  it  to  move 
any  farther. 

"  But  I  don't  want  it  braced !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Carson.  "  I  want  it  taken  away ;  I  want  it 
out  of  my  back  }rard  !  " 

The  master  carpenter  was  a  man  of  imag 
ination  and  expedients.  "  That  is  quite  an 
other  thing,  ma'am,"  said  he.  "  We'll  fix 
this  gentleman's  house  so  that  you  needn't 
be  afraid  of  it ;  and  then  when  the  time 
comes  to  move  it,  there's  several  ways  of  doing 
that.  "We  might  rig  up  a  powerful  windlass 
at  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  perhaps  get  a 
steam-engine  to  turn  it,  and  we  could  fasten 
cables  to  the  house  and  haul  her  back  to 
where  she  belongs." 

"  And  can  you  take  your  oaths,"  cried  Mrs. 
Carson,  "  that  those  ropes  won't  break,  and 
when  that  house  gets  half  way  up  the  hill,  it 
won't  come  sliding  down  ten  times  faster 
than  it  did,  and  crash  into  me  and  mine  and 
everything  I  own  on  earth?  No,  sir!  I'll 
have  no  house  hauled  up  a  hill  back  of 
me  ! " 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  carpenter,  "  it  would 
be  a  great  deal  easier  to  move  it  on  this 
ground,  which  is  almost  level — 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          369 

"And  cut  down  my  trees  to  do  it!  No, 
sir!" 

"  "Well,  then,"  said  lie,  "  there  is  no  way  to 
do  but  to  take  it  apart  and  haul  it  off." 

"  Which  would  make  an  awful  time  at  the 
back  of  my  house  while  you  were  doing  it !  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Carson. 

I  now  put  in  a  word.  "  There's  only  one 
thing  to  do  that  I  can  see !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  I 
will  sell  it  to  a  match  factory.  It  is  almost 
all  wood,  and  it  can  be  cut  up  in  sections 
about  two  inches  thick,  and  then  split  into 
matches." 

Kitty  smiled.  "  I  should  like  to  see  them," 
she  said,  "  taking  away  the  little  sticks  in 
wheelbarrows ! " 

"  There  is  no  need  of  trifling  on  the  sub 
ject,"  said  Mrs.  Carson.  "  I  have  had  a  great 
deal  to  bear,  and  I  must  bear  it  no  longer 
than  is  necessary.  I  have  just  found  out  that 
in  order  to  get  water  out  of  my  own  well,  I 
must  go  to  the  back  porch  of  a  stranger. 
Such  things  cannot  be  endured.  If  my  son 
George  were  here,  he  would  tell  me  wrhat  I 
ought  to  do.  I  shall  write  to  him,  and  see 
what  he  advises.  I  do  not  mind  waiting  a 
little  bit,  now  thnt  I  know  that  you  can  fix 


370          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

Mr.  Warren's  Louse  so  that  it  won't  move 
any  farther." 

Tims  the  matter  was  left.  My  house  was 
braced  that  afternoon,  and  toward  evening 
I  started  to  go  to  a  hotel  in  the  town  to 
spend  the  night. 

"No,  sir !"  said  Mrs.  Carson.  "Do  you 
suppose  that  I  am  going  to  stay  here  all 
night  with  a  great  empty  house  jammed  up 
against  me,  and  everybody  knowing  that  it 
is  empty  ?  It  will  be  the  same  as  having 
thieves  in  my  own  house  to  have  them  in 
yours.  You  have  come  down  here  in  your 
property,  and  you  can  stay  in  it  and  lake 
care  of  it !  " 

"  I  don't  object  to  that  in  the  least,"  I  said. 
"  My  two  women  are  here,  and  I  can  tell  them 
to  attend  to  my  meals.  I  haven't  any  chim 
ney,  but  I  suppose  they  can  make  a  fire  some 
way  or  other." 

"No,  sir  !  "  said  Mrs.  Carson.  "  I  am  not 
going  to  have  any  strange  servants  on  my 
place.  I  have  just  been  able  to  prevail  upon 
my  own  women  to  go  into  the  house,  and  I 
don't  want  any  more  trouble ;  I  have  had 
enough  already ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  madam,"  said  I,  "  you  don't 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          371 

want  mo  to  go  to  the  town,  and  you  won't  al 
low  me  to  have  any  cooking  done  here ;  what 
am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  you  can  eat  with  us.  It 
may  be  two  or  three  days  before  I  can  hear 
from  my  son  George,  and  in  the  meantime 
you  can  lodge  in  your  own  house  and  I  will 
take  you  to  board.  That  is  the  best  way  I 
can  see  of  managing  the  thing ;  but  I  am  very 
sure  I  am  not  going  to  be  left  here  alone  in 
the  dreadful  predicament  in  which  you  have 
put  me." 

We  had  scarcely  finished  supper,  when 
Jack  Brandiger  came  to  see  me.  He  laughed 
a  good  deal  about  my  sudden  change  of  base, 
but  thought,  on  the  whole,  my  house  had 
made  a  very  successful  move ;  it  must  be  more 
pleasant  in  the  valley  than  up  on  that  windy 
hill.  Jack  was  very  much  interested  in  every 
thing,  and  when  Mrs.  Carson  and  her  daugh 
ter  appeared,  as  we  were  walking  about 
viewing  the  scene,  I  felt  myself  obliged  to 
introduce  him. 

"  I  like  those  ladies,"  said  he  to  me  after 
ward.  "  I  think  you  have  chosen  very  agree 
able  neighbors." 

"  How  do  you  know  you  like  them  ?  "  said 


372          M Y  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

I.  "You  had  scarcely  anything  to  say  to 
Mrs.  Carson." 

"  No,  to  be  sure,"  said  he ;  "  but  I  expect 
I  should  like  her.  By  the  way,  do  you  know 
how  you  used  to  talk  to  me  about  coming  and 
living  somewhere  near  you  ?  How  would  you 
like  me  to  take  one  of  your  rooms  now  ?  I 
might  cheer  you  up." 

"No,"  said  I,  firmly.  "That  cannot  be 
done.  As  things  are  now,  I  have  as  much  as 
I  can  do  to  get  along  here  by  myself." 

Mrs.  Carson  did  not  hear  from  her  son 
for  nearly  a  week,  and  then  he  wrote  that  he 
found  it  almost  impossible  to  give  her  any 
advice.  He  thought  it  was  a  very  queer  state 
of  affairs  ;  he  had  never  heard  of  any  thing- 
like  it ;  but  he  would  try  and  arrange  busi 
ness  so  that  he  could  come  home  in  a  week 
or  two  and  look  into  matters. 

As  I  was  thus  compelled  to  force  myself 
upon  the  close  neighborhood  of  Mrs.  Carson 
and  her  daughter,  I  endeavored  to  make 
things  as  pleasant  as  possible.  I  brought 
some  of  my  men  down  out  of  the  vineyard 
and  set  them  to  repairing  fences,  putting  the 
garden  in  order,  and  doing  all  that  I  could 
to  remedy  the  doleful  condition  of  things 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          373 

which  I  had  unwillingly  brought  into  the 
back  yard  of  this  quiet  family.  I  rigged  up  a 
pump  on  my  back  porch  by  which  the  water 
of  the  well  could  be  conveniently  obtained, 
and  in  every  way  endeavored  to  repair  dam 
ages. 

But  Mrs.  Carson  never  ceased  to  talk  about 
the  unparalleled  disaster  which  had  come 
upon  her,  and  she  must  have  had  a  great 
deal  of  correspondence  with  her  son  George, 
because  she  gave  me  frequent  messages  from 
him.  He  could  not  come  on  to  look  into  the 
state  of  affairs,  but  he  seemed  to  be  giving  it 
a  great  deal  of  thought  and  attention. 

Spring  weather  had  come  again,  and  it  was 
very  pleasant  to  help  the  Carson  ladies  get 
their  flower-garden  in  order — at  least  as 
much  as  was  left  of  it,  for  my  house  was 
resting  upon  some  of  the  most  important 
beds.  As  I  was  obliged  to  give  up  all  pres 
ent  idea  of  doing  anything  in  the  way  of  get 
ting  my  residence  out  of  a  place  where  it  had 
no  business  to  be,  because  Mrs.  Carson  would 
not  consent  to  any  plan  which  had  been  sug 
gested,  I  felt  that  I  was  offering  some  little 
compensation  in  beautifying  what  seemed  to 
be,  at  that  time,  my  own  grounds. 


374          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

My  labors  in  regard  to  vines,  bushes,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  were  generally  carried 
on  under  direction  of  Mrs.  Carson  or  her 
daughter,  and  as  the  elderly  lady  was  a  very 
busy  housewife,  the  horticultural  work  was 
generally  left  to  Miss  Kitty  and  me. 

I  liked  Miss  Kitty  ;  she  was  a  cheerful, 
whole-souled  person,  and  I  sometimes  thought 
that  she  was  not  so  unwilling  to  have  me  for 
a  neighbor  as  the  rest  of  the  family  seemed 
to  be;  for  if  I  were  to  judge  the  disposition 
of  her  brother  George  from  what  her  mother 
told  me  about  his  letters,  both  he  and  Mrs. 
Carson  must  be  making  a  great  many  plans 
to  get  me  off  the  premises. 

Nearly  a  month  had  now  passed  since  my 
house  and  I  made  that  remarkable  morning 
call  upon  Mrs.  Carson.  I  was  becoming  ac 
customed  to  my  present  mode  of  living,  and, 
so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  it  satisfied  me  very 
well ;  I  certainly  lived  a  great  deal  better 
than  when  I  was  depending  upon  my  old 
negro  cook.  Miss  Kitty  seemed  to  be  satis 
fied  with  things  as  they  were,  and  so,  in 
some  respects,  did  her  mother ;  but  the  lat 
ter  never  ceased  to  give  me  extracts  from 
some  of  her  son  George's  letters,  and  this  was 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          375 

always  annoying  and  worrying  to  me.  Evi 
dently  lie  was  not  pleased  with  me  as  such  a 
close  neighbor  to  his  mother  ;  and  it  was  as 
tonishing  how  many  expedients  he  proposed 
in  order  to  rid  her  of  my  undesirable  prox 
imity. 

"  My  son  George,"  said  Mrs.  Carson,  one 
morning,  "has  been  writing  to  me  about 
jackscrews ;  he  says  that  the  greatest  im 
provements  have  been  made  in  jackscrews." 

"What  do  you  do  with  them,  mother?" 
asked  Miss  Kitty. 

"  You  lift  houses  with  them,"  said  she. 
"  He  says  that  in  large  cities  they  lift  whole 
blocks  of  houses  with  them  and  build  stories 
underneath.  He  thinks  that  we  can  get  rid 
of  our  trouble  here  if  we  use  jackscrews." 

"  But  how  does  he  propose  to  use  them  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Oh,  he  has  a  good  many  plans,"  answered 
Mrs.  Carson.  "  He  said  that  he  should  not 
wonder  if  jackscrews  could  be  made  large 
enough  to  lift  your  house  entirely  over  mine 
and  set  it  out  in  the  road,  where  it  could  be 
carried  away  without  interfering  with  any 
thing,  except,  of  course,  vehicles  which  might 
be  coming  along.  But  he  has  another  plan  ; 


376          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

that  is,  to  lift  my  house  up  and  carry  it  out 
into  the  field  on  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
and  then  your  house  might  be  carried  along- 
right  over  the  cellar  until  it  got  to  the  road. 
In  that  way,  he  says,  the  bushes  and  trees 
would  not  have  to  be  interfered  with." 

"  I  think  brother  George  is  cracked  ! "  said 
Kitty. 

All  this  sort  of  thing  worried  me  very  much. 
My  mind  was  eminently  disposed  toward 
peace  and  tranquillity,  but  who  could  be 
peaceful  and  tranquil  with  a  prospective 
jackscrew  under  the  very  base  of  his  comfort 
and  happiness  ?  In  fact,  my  house  had  never 
been  such  a  happy  home  as  it  was  at  that 
time;  the  fact  of  its  unwarranted  position 
upon  other  people's  grounds  had  ceased  to 
trouble  me. 

But  the  coming  son  George,  with  his  jack- 
screws,  did  trouble  me  very  much,  and  that 
afternoon  I  deliberately  went  into  Mrs.  Car 
son's  house  to  look  for  Kitty.  I  knew  her 
mother  was  not  at  home,  for  I  had  seen  her 
go  out.  When  Kitty  appeared  I  asked  her 
to  come  out  on  her  back  porch.  "  Have  yon 
thought  of  any  new  plan  of  moving  it  ?  "  she 
said,  with  a  smile,  as  we  sat  down. 


4   \ 


M Y  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          377 

"  No,"  said  I,  earnestly  ;  "  I  have  not,  and 
I  don't  want  to  think  of  any  plan  of  moving 
it.  I  am  tired  of  seeing  it  here,  I  am  tired 
of  thinking  about  moving  it  away,  and  I  am 
tired  of  hearing  people  talk  about  moving  it. 
I  have  not  any  right  to  be  here,  and  I  am 
never  allowed  to  forget  it.  What  I  want  to 
do  is  to  go  entirely  away,  and  leave  every 
thing  behind  me — except  one  thing." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  asked  Kitty. 

"  You,"  I  answered. 

She  turned  a  little  pale  and  did  not  reply. 

"You  understand  me,  Kitty,"Isaid.  "There 
is  nothing  in  the  world  that  I  care  for  but 
you.  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

Then  came  back  to  her  her  little  smile.  "  I 
think  it  would  be  very  foolish  for  us  to  go 
away,"  she  said. 

It  was  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this 
when  Kitty  proposed  that  we  should  go  out 
to  the  front  of  the  house.  It  would  look 
queer  if  any  of  the  servants  should  come  by 
and  see  us  sitting  together  like  that.  I  had 
forgotten  that  there  were  other  people  in  the 
world ;  but  I  went  with  her. 

We  were  standing  on  the  front  porch  close 
to  each  other,  and  I  think  we  were  holding 


378          MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

eacli  other's  hands,  when  Mrs.  Carson  came 
back.  As  she  approached  she  looked  at  us 
inquiringly,  plainly  wishing  to  know  why  we 
were  standing  side  by  side  before  her  door 
as  if  we  had  some  special  object  in  so  doing. 

"  Well?  "  said  she,  as  she  came  up  the 
steps.  Of  course  it  was  right  that  I  should 
speak,  and,  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  I 
told  her  what  Kitty  and  I  had  been  saying  to 
each  other.  I  never  saw  Kitty's  mother  look 
so  cheerful  and  so  handsome  as  when  she 
came  forward  and  kissed  her  daughter  and 
shook  hands  with  me.  She  seemed  so  per 
fectly  satisfied  that  it  amazed  me.  After  a 
little  Kitty  left  us,  and  then  Mrs.  Carson 
asked  me  to  sit  by  her  on  a  rustic  bench. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  this  will  straighten  out 
things  in  the  very  best  way.  When  you  are 
married,  you  and  Kitty  can  live  in  the  back 
building — for,  of  course,  your  house  will  now 
be  the  same  thing  as  a  back  building — and 
you  can  have  the  second  floor.  We  won't 
have  any  separate  tables,  because  it  will  be  a 
great  deal  nicer  for  you  and  Kitty  to  live  with 
me,  and  it  will  simply  be  your  paying  board 
for  two  persons  instead  of  one  ;  and  you  know 
you  can  manage  your  vineyard  just  as  well 


MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR          379 

from  the  bottom  of  the  hill  as  from  the  top. 
The  lower  rooms  of  what  used  to  be  your  house 
can  be  made  very  pleasant  and  comfortable 
for  all  of  us.  I  have  been  thinking  about  the 
room  on  the  right  that  you  had  planned  for 
a  parlor,  and  it  will  make  a  lovely  sitting-room 
for  us,  which  is  a  thing  we  have  never  had, 
and  the  room  on  the  other  side  is  just  what 
will  suit  beautifully  for  a  guest-chamber.  The 
two  houses  together,  with  the  roof  of  my  back 
porch  properly  joined  to  the  front  of  your 
house,  will  make  a  beautiful  and  spacious 
dwelling.  It  was  fortunate,  too,  that  you 
painted  your  house  a  light  yellow  ;  I  have 
often  looked  at  the  two  together,  and  thought 
what  a  good  thing  it  was  that  one  was  not  one 
color  and  the  other  another.  And  as  to  the 
pump,  it  will  be  very  easy  now  to  put  a  pipe 
from  what  used  to  be  your  back  porch  to  our 
kitchen,  so  that  we  can  get  water  without  be 
ing  obliged  to  carry  it.  Between  us  we  can 
make  all  sorts  of  improvements,  and  some 
time  I  will  tell  you  of  a  good  many  that  I 
have  thought  of. 

"  What  used  to  be  your  house,"  she  con 
tinued,  "  can  be  jackscrewed  up  a  little  bit 
and  a  good  foundation  put  under  it ;  I  have 


380         MY  UNWILLING  NEIGHBOR 

inquired  about  that.  Of  course  it  would  not 
have  been  proper  to  let  you  know  that  I  was 
satisfied  with  the  state  of  things,  but  I  was 
satisfied,  and  there  is  no  use  of  denying  it. 
As  soon  as  I  got  over  my  first  scare,  after  that 
house  came  down  the  hill,  and  had  seen  how 
everything  might  be  arranged  to  suit  all 
parties,  I  said  to  myself  :  '  What  the  Lord  has 
joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder,'  and 
so,  according  to  my  belief,  the  strongest  kind 
of  jackscrews  could  not  put  these  two  houses 
asunder,  any  more  than  they  could  put  you 
and  Kitty  asunder,  now  that  you  have  agreed 
to  take  each  other  for  each  other's  own." 

Jack  Brandiger  came  to  call  that  evening, 
and  when  he  had  heard  what  had  happened 
he  whistled  a  good  deal.  "  You  are  a  funny 
kind  of  a  fellow,"  said  he.  "  You  go  courting 
like  a  snail,  with  your  house  on  your  back !  " 

I  think  my  friend  was  a  little  discomfited. 
"  Don't  be  discouraged,  Jack,"  said  I.  "  You 
will  get  a  good  wife  some  of  these  days ;  that 
is,  if  you  don't  try  to  slide  uphill  to  find  her  !  " 


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